


The Masks We Wear

by Evil_Sapphyre



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Galactic Republic, Imperial Intelligence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, SIS Agency, SIS Agents - Freeform, Sith Empire, Spy Intrigue, imperial agents - Freeform, spy romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Sapphyre/pseuds/Evil_Sapphyre
Summary: On the heels of a disastrous encounter with a Sith Lord, Cipher Nine finds her way back to the gangster moon of Nar Shaddaa, with more than just the mission at hand on her mind. Will she let old feelings cloud her judgment?





	1. Illicit Liaisons

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Deathista for her encouragement, both to play the game again and to write this. <3

A familiar haze hung about the air, the faint traces clouding the sky between the burning neon lights that lit the perpetual night sky of Nar Shaddaa. The metallic tang of chemicals filtered past her nose, but the air was still easier to breathe in the artificial atmosphere of the moon, than the wasteland of Nal Hutta. For that, Seraph remained grateful; she still found that her lungs ached in the morning from her extended stay as a  _ guest _ of Nem’ro. It was just another lingering reminder of the line of work that chose her, as was her despicable companion that continued to ramble about something insipid as they made their way out of the spaceport.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Seraph forced a smile on her face as she turned to face the Rattataki woman that she had been burdened with since Nal Hutta. “Kaliyo, is it necessary for you to prattle on at every possible moment?”

“Oh, so you are listening, huh, Agent?” Kaliyo’s pale eyes flashed as her own tight smile flitted across her face, her voice rising just enough on the last word to almost make Seraph flinch.

Almost.

Why Keeper stuffed her with such a creature that could expose her true identity and affiliation at any point was beyond Seraph. She merely hoped that should that happen, that she would have enough time to remove the blemish that was Kaliyo Djannis from the galaxy before too much harm was done.

She raised a single eyebrow, her own smile never falling from her face. “Yes, you’ve been filling my ear with your need to track down this friend of yours for the entire trip back from Dromund Kaas. So, why don’t you track down exactly where this woman is, and we’ll scurry along to fetch her?”

“What? I didn’t do enough of the legwork to find her already?” Those pale eyes flashed again, but at least Kaliyo kept her voice down. They were standing in the middle of a busy spaceport, where Republic or Underworld ears might hear them.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kaliyo. Am I supposed to bend over backwards for you now? I agreed to help, on my time, when you have all the necessities in order. Until then... “ Seraph shrugged, enjoying the warmth the smug satisfaction gave her as she refused to do more than necessary to help. “I have matters to take care of my own. Official ones.”

It wasn’t truly a stretch of the truth. Seraph was under direct orders from Darth Zhorrid to continue the search for the people that assassinated Darth Jadus. While passing through Nar Shaddaa a few weeks back, Seraph saw an old associate in passing that could have information. Not that she truly wanted to help the Sith. Truth be told, the galaxy was better with one fewer Sith in it, and she’d love to see a second one go missing.

Still, she didn’t wait to hear Kaliyo’s response as she turned on her heel and headed towards the taxi stand. She knew precisely where this associate was most likely to be, and even if he wasn’t there, she could always use a stiff drink to help wash her mind of that encounter with Darth Zhorrid.

Just the thought of that awful woman flooded memories back to Seraph, memories that she long believed to have been packed away into the darkest recesses of her mind. She had stood before Darth Jadus and Darth Lachris, and still the memories stayed locked away. She didn’t enjoy serving them, and saying the proper necessities, but she could feign obedience, long enough to survive the confrontation.

But with Zhorrid?

It took every ounce of willpower for Seraph to not draw her blaster; however foolish such an endeavour might be. The spoiled, petulant belief Zhorrid held, that somehow she was more entitled, better, simply because the damned Sith had a connection with this  _ almighty _ Force. And when Zhorrid didn’t get her way, she would torture, kill whomever, and whatever she felt - for the same reasons (or perhaps something worse). Just like all the rest of the Sith, no matter how pretty their words, or how noble they claim their intentions.

There would never be true order in the galaxy so long as the Sith and the Jedi existed.

Of course, such controversial thoughts would be the death of Seraph is he ever dared to utter them aloud. A half-chuckle escaped her as the taxi approached the upper promenade, and she hopped out, the rush and bustle of the other skycars enveloping her as she made her way towards the interior of the promenade. Even now, the dull roar of the crowd within reached her ears, doing much to silence the treasonous thoughts she bore. Nar Shaddaa never slept, and that was precisely what she needed to recalibrate her own senses.

Slipping through the crowd of people and aliens alike, she swept a hand over her hair, ensuring that the pale blonde hair was still neatly tucked into place. Her clothing was fairly nondescript, a white shirt, dark gray pants with a matching coat. She left her main weapon back on the ship for now, but kept her holdout blaster and vibroknife just within reach. No one would likely mess with her, but the streets were known for their spice dealings. That made things more unpredictable than she cared for.

Fortunately, the Slippery Slopes Cantina didn’t openly deal spice, and most of the patrons present used in limited quantities, if any at all. Music filtered out through the long hall that led to the main den as Seraph stopped just outside. Her stomach twisted for a moment, her nerves twitching at her hesitation. For as much as she thought this colleague could aid her, there was just as much a chance that he was still angry about their last meeting.

Not that she blamed him for his anger, even if she suspected it was as much a ruse as her seduction of him. Still, he left her with a scar that she refused to rid herself of. If he was willing to look past allegiances, they could perhaps help one another - in some fashion or another.

 

* * *

 

Leaning against the bar, Seraph closed her eyes as she listened to the upbeat electro-beat of the band playing. A soft rumble of voices floated around her, and with the help of the offworld brandy that she drank, she even kept from listening to their words. She didn’t want to hear their secrets. No, she was waiting, biding her time. Her associate wasn’t present in the cantina when she arrived, but a few minutes after she ordered her drink, two very obvious Republic men entered the bar: one a Cathar, the other a young, dark-blonde fellow in desperate need of a razor. They disappeared into a side room without a glance to the rest of the bar.

It reeked of official business.

And if there was official Republic business on Nar Shaddaa, she knew who was likely nestled into that dark little room. A part of her wanted to slide up to the door, see if she could overhear whatever business they might be on, but she reminded herself that she was not here to be a good Intelligence agent. For once, she considered this her time, and her time alone.

As the band finished their current song, she opened her eyes and slid them to the side room, just in time to see the same two Republic soldiers trundling back out. Something about the human nagged at her for some reason, but she couldn’t place it. It was a problem for another day though, as she slid away from the bar, drink in hand as they disappeared out the front door.

The door slid open as she approached, the interior lit by a warm yellow light that contrasted against the aggressive fluorescence of the main cantina room. Standing with his back half towards the door, a tall man with dark hair and a chiseled jawline that she’d know anywhere chuckled, a baritone laced with a traditional core world accent. “Don’t tell me you forgot…”

His blue eyes met her own blue, recognition flashing in them as quickly as he pulled his pistol on her. With a laugh of her own, she took a sip of the sweet brandy as she sashayed into the room, letting the door close behind her. “Now is that any way to greet an old friend, my darling Balkar?”

“I believe any chance at friendship passed the moment you tried to steal my access codes.” He kept the pistol aimed at her as he stepped closer, but she doubted that he was intending to use it.

“And yet, you thwarted me.”

“You nearly comprised my position and cover in the process. I was lucky to get off Dromund Kaas in one piece.” There was a decidedly lack of venom in his voice that made her smile.

After another sip of the brandy, she held the glass out to him. “Then consider yourself fortunate to have survived. If you're done grousing about what might have been, perhaps we can move past the sordid details.”

With a jiggle of her wrist, the liquid danced in the glass, but her eyes remained locked with Balkar’s, waiting for him to make the next move. Outside the room, the thrum of the music pounded against the walls, filling the silence until he lowered the gun, reholstering it on his side. She juggled the glass again, but he shook his head. “I don't drink on the job.”

“Liar.” She didn't offer it again, instead downing the rest of the alcohol until it left a burning trail to her stomach. “And you don't have to be on the job around me. I'm here in an unofficial capacity.”

He arches a brow, a hint of a smile touching that ridiculously handsome Republic face. “Now who’s the liar? We both know that we can never truly turn the job off.”

“Hmm, true,” she reached over and ran a hand across his chest, feeling the hard muscle under the dark brown jacket. “It doesn't mean we can't pretend for a few.”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, but he didn't pull her away. “Seraph…”

The rest of his words died on his lips as she pressed her mouth to his, her tongue clashing against his. One hand tangled itself in her hair, ruining the way she had it pinned, as he removed what little distance remained between their bodies. He tasted as she remembered with a hint of cinnamon and sugar.

His hand around her wrist found its way to her breast, caressing it through the soft material of her shirt, teasing the nipple that his fingers deftly found. A satisfied noise rumbled in the back of her throat, and she felt his smile against her lips, heard the hitch in his throat as he fought the urge to gasp for air.

He pried the glass from her hand; the sound of it shattering skittered across the air. Her hands worked to divest him of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and eliciting a chuckle from him as he disentangled himself from her long enough to let her finish the task. He pressed his lips along the pulse of her neck.“I see you're impatient today.”

“Less talking,” she shrugged out of her own jacket, letting her pistol clatter to the ground. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, his tongue flicking behind it. Blast it, she had forgotten how skilled he was at this, even if this was exactly what she wanted when she sought him out. She tugged his shirt from his pants, leaning into the searing trail he left on her neck. “More…”

His hand slipped between her thighs, rubbing at the dampness that lay hidden under her clothes and ending her train of thought. A soft moan escaped her as she rested her hands on his hips, enjoying as his palm ground against her; it was like he was testing her, trying to get her to writhe against him so soon. “Shall we take this…”

The loud ring of her holocom cut him off, and it took every ounce of her willpower to not sling it into the nearest wall. Blasted work, or worse. Of course, it would come calling.

With a growl, she snatched her jacket from the ground and yanked the device from a pocket. Taking a few steps away from Balkar, who at least seemed to graciously give her space, she held it in front of her, debating on answering with a scowl instead of her customary neutral face.

The scowl won, as did the waspish tone that came from her. “And who’s dying now?”

“My friend, if you don't hurry, Agent.” Kaliyo’s annoyed looking face flashed to life on the holo, arms crossed over her chest.

Seraph wasn't sure what angered her more, the demanding tone in the woman’s voice, or the continued use of addressing her as Agent over unsecured channels. “I told you. I'd be along as soon as I finished my own business.”

“Doesn't look like business to me.” The woman looked pointedly up to what Seraph knew was her disheveled hair. “But hey, if I rate under your own personal playtime….”

“There is a point to this, I presume?” Seraph cared little what the other woman thought of her, and it was not worth the effort to waste energy trying to deceive her.

Kaliyo snorted, her eyes rolling. “Just if you can tear yourself away from Sanju, or whoever else you've found, I've got the location on my friend. Whenever you're ready,  _ Agent _ .”

The call cut off abruptly, and Seraph repressed the sign at the back of her throat. Going to rescue Kaliyo’s friend was the last thing she was interested in, but she probably should leave soon - else the grudge Kaliyo held would only grow. She turned to apologize to Balkar, but he already had slipped his jacket back on, straightened his own appearance.

He held out her own jacket towards her, all hints of his smile gone. The sigh escaped her this time as she moved towards him, accepting that fate had thwarted them this time. “I assure you that this was not how I intended things to go.”

He raised both eyebrows, shrugging a bit as he helped her back into her jacket and handed over her pistol. “Kaliyo Djannis, huh? That's some dangerous company to keep.”

“Yes, well, I assure you that it's not by choice.” She tucked her pistol into an interior pocket before beginning the process of ensuring her hair was neatly tucked back away. There were appearances to consider once she left this room. “I’d sooner see her in a prison somewhere.”

Balkar laughed a bit, strolling over to a table and leaning against it. “You know, if you told me where you were headed, that could be arranged.”

Oh, that was a tempting offer, even if she was certain that Keeper would let Zhorrid flay her if she went through it. Still, she laughed herself. “And be denied the privilege of hauling her to some Imperial prison myself? Never, darling.”

“Well, if you change your mind about that, or you finally want to switch sides…”

He left that offer hanging out in the air. It was a bit of a surprise to be honest, after the way things ended the first time - even if today had been far more agreeable. Was the Republic truly any better, with their Jedi running the show? She somehow doubted it.

“Again, I’ll have to pass. And word to the wise, Balkar, you may want to tell those Republic soldiers to parade about in something less official.” She started towards the door, pausing briefly to look behind her and towards him. “They’re going to blow your cover. You’re far too handsome to end up in some Imperial prison.”


	2. Wartime Liabilities

Seraph.

Jonas Balkar hadn't expected to see her waltz into this room like she had, not after the way they parted back on Dromund Kaas, but the taste of her still burned against his lips, the sweet brandy lingering against his tongue. She made damned sure to leave her mark wherever she went. Despite the time that passed, it was fair to say that he knew when she breezed through Nar Shaddaa a few weeks back. He saw her slip into the Cantina one day, and, after that, he made it a point to keep track of her movements then without alerting it up to higher channels. For the most part, she hadn't interfered with Republic business, and he told himself that was why he kept quiet about an Imperial operative that might be flying under the usual Republic radars.

And, well, he felt bad about how he acted the last time he had seen her. It wasn't like he didn't suspect that she was Imperial operative of some sort back on Dromund Kaas. All he had to do was throw a cred into a crowd to hit one there, but still, he behaved poorly when he realized she seduced him just to get close to his access codes, like he was somehow surprised by it. She hadn’t deserved that.

She might be a dutiful member of the Empire, but he proved to be a sleemo that day, letting his anger get the best of him. The scar decorating her cheek was proof enough of that. Why didn’t she let the doctors remove it?

Blast it, she was not the complication he needed right now. Not when he had a Republic Spec Ops squad planetside. He'd like to believe as competing agents, that it was a courtesy amongst spies for them to be cordial, aware of the other’s presence. It never hurt to have a favor owed from someone on the other side. His superiors though? They’d haul him back to Coruscant so fast that he’d never know what hit him.

Thankfully, her holocall interruption allowed him a chance to come back to his senses. It didn’t matter how much he’d rather have her pressed up against one of these walls while buried inside of her. There were plenty of other women that he could have, that he’d  _ had _ since her. That was never an issue, but… No, it was far too complicated for a romantic entanglement. Her parting words only confirmed that they were going to remain at opposing ends of this war.

That made her nothing more than a temptation, trouble. Strictly off limits from now on. Probably easier said than done, but he’d rise to the occasion if it ever presented itself again. There was just as strong a chance that their paths would never cross again - especially once she found the tracking device he slipped into her pistol. It was purely for information purposes; he was curious exactly where she went off with that dangerous colleague of hers.

For now, he needed to refocus on the job he’d been assigned, helping Havoc squad track down this droid problem of theirs. The last thing he needed was for General Garza to make his life even more difficult if he failed to help her team get the results they needed. She might often make light of politics interfering with her ops, but she was in a position to ensure that politics did work against him and his men.

Shaking his head, he headed to the table, his boots crunching against the shattered glass on the floor. Right, he needed to clean up his impromptu mess. It could blasted wait; the errand he sent the Republic boys on wouldn’t take them long, and well, he didn’t care if the place looked a wreck. It wasn’t like they were coming back through here anyways. He’d just make sure to tip the staff extra for their troubles.

Speaking of them, his own holo beeped to let him know they were in position. That would make this showtime.

 

* * *

 

Jonas would be lying to himself if he hadn’t hoped to see her as he made his way to the Red Light District. He knew it would be easy enough to check the tracker, to know precisely where she was (assuming she hadn’t located it as soon as she left), but he liked the idea of just seeing her by chance. Not that he did.

Chances were good that she was far from the Red Light District anyways. The place saw little traffic from the Empire on the worst of days, and as far as he knew, today wasn’t a bad day. Even if he had just learned that the real reason Havoc squad was here had less to do with supporting his ops, and more to do with cleaning up their own mess. Apparently, the former CO and a number of his troops defected to the Empire, and General Garza neglected to mention that even to the SIS.

He wasn’t about to let that slip his mind the next time he got a chance to talk to Garza. He didn’t blasting care if she was a general. It was hard enough to do his job without having his own side obscure facts from him. Still, at least this fresh-faced Lieutenant of hers had sense to clue him on what was happening. He appreciated it.

Of course, it did give him a reason to talk to that blonde Imperial if he did spot her. Perhaps she’d shed some light on the situation if he worked the right angle. Or maybe he could just use it as an excuse for her not to be off-limits, for a short time, since apparently, he kept thinking about her despite his best efforts. Kriffing, she was going to turn him into a liability if he didn’t do something soon. He made a mental note to find a pretty thing in the near future and seclude himself away with her for a long weekend. Maybe then he could erase this irrational fascination with forbidden fruit.

Strolling through the doors of the Republic operation facility, done up as a commercial operation Balkar Interior Refurbishments. It wasn’t his most discreet idea, but it made him chuckle. Besides, to the best of his knowledge, Jonas Balkar wasn’t much to the Imperials, unless a certain agent had offered up that information to her superiors.

He went straight to the back area, where another operative handed him a datapad without a word. The Havoc boys should be along any moment, and well, the work of the SIS was never truly done with this war still raging. In addition to the defection he just learned about, there were the demands of the Hutt cartels on the moon, as well as the Hutt’s so-called secret dealings with the Imperials. There was always data to sift through, to see what could be used. He might as well make use of this time as he waited.

Such as the fact that this droid disappeared off the grid, along with the traitorous spec ops handler that was operating on the moon. He could have done more to prevent that from happening if Garza had been straight with him from the start. Hopefully, one of the operatives found something that could help them; he better scan through these records quickly.

Minutes later, the door chimed as it slid open, and Havoc squad marched in, armored boots clanking against the floor, with all the bearings of trained soldiers. Even without insignias, it wouldn't take much for someone to point them out as Republic, just like Seraph said. Perhaps he should bring it up to the lieutenant when he got a chance. Probably best to do it when his sergeant was around, it looked like Jorgan didn’t know how to take criticism, let alone crack a smile.

“Hey there. Welcome to Balkar Interior Refurbishments, Incorporated. Be sure you review the employee manual.” He kept his tone light, a half smile on his face, gauging the reactions from the men in front of him.

As predicted the Cathar sergeant scowled in his direction, but the lieutenant chuckled, shrugging a bit with a glance around the room - another reason to like the fellow. Still, he cut straight to business, not wanting to give the defecting forces time to recuperate after the Republic’s intrusion into Tavus’ plans on Nar Shaddaa. The sooner they got ahead of Tavus and his goons, the sooner they’d bring the traitors into justice.

Putting into action a plan to try and trace down the Imperial handlers on Nar Shaddaa that were coordinating with the Havoc squad defenders, he turned the lieutenant and his sergeant loose, letting his attention slip back - and down - to the datapad in his hands. “We’ll be here for when the party’s over. Have fun.”

“And how about you try to not get distracted again by some blonde on the way there?”

Jonas went cold at the words. Had they noticed Seraph coming to see him at the Slippery Slopes Cantina? Kriff, he did not need…

“Aw, man, lay off it already, Jorgan,” the lieutenant’s voice as he started out the room flooded Jonas with a tiny bit of relief. Not as much as he’d like. “It’s not like that. That girl looked like my mother. It was uncanny.”

“Yeah,  _ sure _ , she did, Irlain. Is that why you stare at Dorne like you do too?”

Jonas didn’t try to catch the flustered reply from the Lieutenant Irlain as he left on his mission. He needed to do something about his own Imperial problem before he really found himself in some hot water.

 

* * *

 

“Jorgan, go on ahead. I want to have a word with Agent Balkar in private.”

Havoc squad’s lieutenant stopped in front of him, despite having just been told that the prototype droid that they were scrambling all over the Hutt moon to find was being gifted as the newest member of the spec ops team. Kriff, was Lieutenant Irlain going to shred him a new one for calling out Garza about keeping her secrets?

The Cathar scowled, a fixed expression it seemed, and jerked a hand at Jonas. Apparently, he wasn’t rating high on the sergeant’s list of favorite people. “What? Do you want to see if he has any tips on how to win over Dorne for you? We still have a mission to finish, you realize?”

“Yes, Jorgan. I realize that. And I told you, I’m not about to mess around with a subordinate. It interferes with the chain of command. Just,” the lieutenant gestured towards the door. “Give me a minute, okay?”

Jorgan shook his head, but he left without another word, if the muttering that Jonas heard wasn’t considered actual words. He raised an eyebrow at the Lieutenant, who looked rather fresh-faced despite his rank and inclusion in spec forces. “What did you need, Lieutenant?”

“Please, there’s no need for that.” An honest smile spread on the young man’s face. Yep, he was definitely still a young wide-eyed kid from the Academy from the looks of it - not that Jonas really minded. It just let him know what kind of person he was dealing with for a change. “You can call me Finley, or Irlain, if that’s too informal for you.”

“Alright, Finley. Call me, Jonas.” It wasn’t like his position demanded the rigid structure and formality of command. He was fine with no salutes and titles to get in the way. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Finley brought a hand up to his head, looking as if he was going to rake his fingers through the blonde hair, before absently rubbing at the back of his neck. “I just wanted to apologize. For catching you off-guard with the whole defection business.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you were the one that clued me in the truth. It's not your place to apologize for the General’s poor decisions.” Jonas clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Just remind your sergeant that I’m one of the good guys.”

“Yeah, don’t take it too personal. Jorgan’s still…” Finley paused, looking to the ceiling, before finally shrugging. “Upset, I guess. Tavus and his men, they kind of left him as their scapegoat when they did their cut and run.”

Well, that did certainly explain the constant angry countenance of the Aric Jorgan. Jonas made a mental note to try and find a way to extend a figurative olive branch the next time he saw him. It wasn’t his fault that so-called colleagues burned him in the worst of ways. Still, Jonas smiled over at Finley. “And here I thought he was just pissed that you had a thing for blondes.”

“Well, he probably is. He’s not convinced any of us deserve any downtime until after Havoc is brought back in. Not that he’s wrong.” Finley’s own smile faltered a bit, as if the weight of his position settled back atop his shoulders. “But, would it be out of line to ask a favor of you?”

Jonas raised an eyebrow, his own smile falling. The rather sudden and direct turn towards serious didn’t miss him. “That entirely depends on the favor.”

“I need to know about any Imperial medical programs that we have access to. Off the record.” Finley rushed to add those last words in there, but it was unnecessary. Jonas wasn’t about to start digging into Imperial programs, even in the SIS archives, with anything official. That was asking for trouble.

Still, he wasn’t sure that he was comfortable, looking into this for the lieutenant. He might be trying to get on Havoc squad’s good side, but this was a bit of a reach. “That’s a pretty big favor…”

“Yeah, I know, I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.” Gone was that fresh-faced idealism that Jonas had attributed to Finley, replaced by this almost desperate look. Whatever prompted the lieutenant to ask for this favor, it struck a personal chord.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can dig up, but I can’t promise you anything. And it’s going to cost you.” Of that much, Jonas was certain. When time came, Havoc squad was going to owe him big for all the security tapes he was going to have to scrub alone to stay off the radar. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Finley reached into a pocket and pulled out a datapad, holding it out to Jonas. “Cloning, maybe? I’m not really sure. All I know is that earlier today I saw a woman here on Nar Shaddaa that looked just like my mother did years ago. Before she fled from Imperial space.”

Well, that was definitely information that Jonas didn’t see coming. There was no trace of an Imperial accent on the young lieutenant here. It seemed that his parents must have done well to hide their accent if they fled to the safety of the Republic, and Jonas knew if he looked in the right file, their past was well documented. He took the datapad, even when he knew he probably should turn the man away. “It could just be a coincidence, but I’ll check it out. See what I can find. It’ll be completely off the books. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Jonas. I appreciate it. I really…”

Jonas’ easy smile returned to his face, a forced reaction at this point, but he doubted that Finley could tell the difference. “Don’t get too sentimental on me yet, Finley. Why don’t you go head off and meet your new crewmember before your surly sergeant accuses you of having a thing for me next?”


	3. Encrypted

_ From:  _ _ birics@birinc.com _

_ To: <redacted recipient> _

_ Subject: Check out the latest in interior refurbishments! _

 

_ Greetings, _

_ We would like to thank you for your interest in Balkar Interior Refurbishments, Incorporated, as there are many new and exciting changes that we have undertaken. Should you have further questions after viewing this attachment, please feel free to contact our nearest representative. Meet us at our new location, just inside the Red Light Sector. Nar Shaddaa continues to be a growing hub for all your refurbishment needs! _

_ Come and see what the fuss is all about. Alone, or with your friends, it doesn’t matter; we’re always ready to serve your growing needs. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Balkar Interior Refurbishments, Incorporated. _

 

_ <attached catalog> _

 

* * *

 

_ From: <redacted sender> _

_ To: jb@birinc.com _

_ Subject: Re: What is the issue? _

 

_ My darling: _

_ Are you well? You have been sullen ever since the other evening. Crazy as it sounds, I did mean it when I said it was perfectly adequate in size. One, I never compare my past lovers, but if I did, you more than made up for any lack of size with your enthusiasm. Of course, you may not believe me, but that doesn't make it any less true - do remember that it's just… Us. _

_ Will you ever believe me? Be it as it may, I do hope you will; I won't mind a rigorous attempt to prove me wrong. Caught off guard even. _

_ I'm more than happy to oblige any unusual requests, perhaps you'll feel more comfortable if we experiment with other techniques. Tied knots can be quite exhilarating, all bound and restrained. Up to you, but I find that it enhances the experience. _

_ Just remember one tiny thing. Politics is a real mood killer, of any sort. You would do well to keep that in mind. Understand that it's better to use that tongue for other endeavors. _

 

_ Thinking of you.  _

 

* * *

 

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: Re: re: What is the issue? _

 

_ I appreciate the vote of confidence. Really, I truly appreciate it. Need to thank you, for making sure you didn't say this in front of any of our friends. To say that it would have been emasculating would be an understatement.  _

 

_ Talk to you soon.  _

 

* * *

 

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: Re: re: re: What is the issue? _

 

_ PS: always happy to show you what my tongue can do _

 

* * *

 

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: I’m sorry _

 

_ Sweetheart, _

 

_ Are you still mad? You should be. Okay, I admit it; I’m an ass. _

_ It’s just that you drive me crazy. Been thinking about it nonstop, and I just can’t seem to help myself. A beauty like you, and well, how long can a poor guy like me hope to keep your interest? Month, maybe more. _

_ Let it go, I tell myself, but it’s hard. Me, I’m pretty thick-headed, but you knew that. Know that - knew sounds like it’s all in the past; that can’t be right. _

 

_ Anything you want, name it; you’re worth the price. _

 

_ Yours always _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra messages can be found by reading the first word from each sentence. Enjoy!


	4. Fraternization

A final application of makeup covered the remaining discoloration of wounds from her encounter with Darth Jadus. Keeper requested that she return to Dromund Kaas, to receive kolto treatments, but she had declined. The last thing Seraph wanted was to be suspended in one of those tanks for however long Imperial doctors deemed necessary. No, she'd take care of her own wound treatments.

Tilting her head as she regarded her reflection, she could barely see the burn marks along her neck, and if she kept her hair down for a change, it was near impossible. Her clothing would cover the bulk of the bruising along her back, so unless things went exceedingly well, she doubted that she'd have to answer any questions. Slipping on the dark grey jacket, she slipped her pistol in an inside pocket before tucking her vibroknife in her boot.

Now she just needed to make her way to the Slippery Slopes to find out why Balkar sent her all those ridiculous messages. He never struck her as the sentimental type, and to breach protocol and actually attempt to communicate with her? Either he lost his senses completely, or he had some trick up his sleeve.

Either way, she had to leave the confines of her ship, alone, to get to the root of the issue. She made it as far as the airlock to the ship before she was stopped by her growing crew. “Agent? Is it wise for you to leave on your own?”

“Give it a rest, bug boy. She's fond of ditching us whenever it suits her needs.” Kaliyo’s voice jarred itself over that of Vector Hyllus’ softer baritone. Seraph half turned to both to see Kaliyo leaning against a wall, pale eyes dancing with fire.

“Believe me, Kaliyo, if I could actually ditch you without fear of repercussion, you'd be long gone already.” Turning her attention to Vector, the former Imperial diplomat turned Joiner from her venture to Alderaan, she gave him a soft smile. “I have some business to attend, but I thank you for your concern.”

“We would be happy to accompany you, Agent, if you so desire.” His tone conveyed the appropriate touches of concern, his brow drawing together, but his eyes remained that eerie sheen of black. It made it rather disconcerting to speak with him and maintain eye contact, but she did her best despite the discomfort.

“It's Seraph, Vector. No need to be so formal with me since we’ll be traveling together for some time.” She only hoped that he would take the direction that Kaliyo failed. He at least seemed to be a fast learner.  “And I'll be fine by myself.”

“As you wish… Seraph.” That was a good lad, even if he hesitated for a moment. She chalked that up to him needing to process that information through his hive mind.

She gave him a pleasant smile, that faded as soon as Kaliyo opened her mouth again. “Huh. Guess I need a cock between my legs to get you to treat me well.”

“Kaliyo, even if you did, it wouldn't change a thing. You'd be just as much a thorn. When you perhaps learn respect is a thing shared mutually…”

“You’d still treat me like I was beneath you.”

“It's hard to ignore the truth, Kaliyo.”

Not wishing to continue to trade acerbic barbs, Seraph turned on her heel and headed out the airlock. Oh, she was certain a reprisal of some sort would be waiting for her one day from Kaliyo Djannis, but Seraph somehow doubted that there was any way that she could treat Kaliyo that wouldn't end in some sort of betrayal. She had seen enough of Kaliyo's so-called friends to know that much.

For now, she was off to locate Agent Balkar. Perhaps he would be agreeable to showing her the wonders of that tongue.

 

* * *

 

The Slippery Slopes Cantina turned out to be a bust. Balkar was nowhere to be found there, and she wasn’t about to hang around to see if he waltzed in at some point. Those messages of his made her suspicious, and if they were some elaborate ruse to try and trap her… Well, they’d have to work to actually do so. She didn’t defy Darth Jadus, and by proxy the Dark Council, to just let herself be caught by the SIS.

Heading up to the upper level of the promenade, she made her way towards one of the Hutt sailing barges currently docked to load up patrons. If nothing else, she’d blend into the crowd before finding her way back towards a sky taxi, perhaps ending up in Network Access to peruse some files. There was certain to be some interesting intel dying to be seen. Maybe she could learn more about Watcher X since she let him escape not too long ago.

The air vibrated with the increasingly louder music from the sailing barge, the crowd growing thick as they clamored about to secure a place on the vessel. It was one giant death trap, waiting to happen, and Seraph wasn’t about to be caught dead on it. Maneuvering her way through the tight crowd, she drew in her breath to allow her to squeeze about the throng of people, ignoring the ache in her back as she did.

As she drew towards the outskirts of the crowd, another person walked right into her, bumping her rather forcefully. An audible hiss escaped her lips as she grabbed her side, wanting nothing more than to take her pistol and whip the clumsy oaf about his head for knocking into her…

And her pistol was gone.

That doshing son of a Hutt was going to pay when she got her hands on them.

Gritting her teeth, she ignored the sharp pain lancing through her side as she whirled around, her eyes darting over the crowd. A lone figure cut through the crowd, moving just a bit too fast, and towards one of the taxi kiosks. Pushing her own way to the edge of the gathered crowd, she made her way to the same kiosks, but her mark was nowhere to be seen.

Well, this was just swell.

If she got her hands on Balkar again, he was going to have to do more than beg for her kindness. It wasn’t even that she was terribly fond of that pistol, but to have some lowlife lift her weapon off her, it was just humiliating. Add to that, it was proof of just how off her game she actually was, and why she probably had been a fool to refuse the kolto treatments.

But to not have control of her body - even if it was for doctors to treat her? No, it would be a hell upon itself, and not just because of Darth Jadus…

A hand pressed itself against the small of her back, warm lips pressing against her ear, as she fought her initial reaction to tense against the unwelcome advance. “Sweetheart,” the pleasant Republic accented voice teased, “there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Darling,” her own voice purred even if she was less than happy about where dear Balkar decided to announce his presence, “When you weren’t at our usual place, I assumed you had finally taken complete leave of your senses.”

“Hardly.” He ushered her into a nearby taxi, rattling off an address to the driver as he crowded into her space in the narrow backseat.  One arm was firmly entrenched around her waist, half holding her in his lap; his face was buried behind an ear. With her injuries, it was terribly uncomfortable, but she kept a pleased smile on her face.

Neither said a word to the other, knowing well enough that this was not the locale to speak freely. To the driver, and anyone observing, they’d appear as nothing more than lovers a bit too eager to get one another alone. Under other circumstances, that might have actually been the case too, even if the way his breath danced across the back of her neck, his lips hovering just above the sensitive flesh, made her stomach flutter.

She positioned one hand on his thigh, trailing her fingers in a slow, deliberate motion along the taut muscle. Teeth nipped at her earlobe as she allowed her hand to slip towards his crotch, brushing against him. There was the slightest catch in his breath, his nose nuzzling at her hair. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his affections, her hand massaging him through his pants - already growing hard beneath her touch.

Fingers dug into her side, rougher than she expected, but for now, she didn't mind the pain - nor the way Balkar twisted her in his lap until his mouth was crushing hers. His tongue pushed past her nipping teeth, filling her with his familiar taste and promises of what he could deliver with his mouth.

With a squeeze against his hardness, he gasped against her lips. “Kriffing, sweetheart, let’s at least get back to the room.”

“Where's the fun in that, darling?” It was fast becoming more than a simple ruse to fool anyone watching them. She wanted to shed him of his clothing, to feel the heat of his skin against hers. She didn't rightly care if the driver saw any of it either.

But the taxi pulled to a stop in front of one of the districts, she wasn't sure which. Balkar transferred credits to the driver before they stumbled out of the vehicle. With his hand wrapped around hers, they hurried through the streets, slipping down back alleys for shortcuts until they arrived at some hotel - one Balkar apparently had a room already at as he took her straight to a turbo lift.

They kept their distance during the ride, neither saying a word. There was a hungry, lustful look in his eyes though - one she knew to be mirrored in her own. Any discussions would have to wait at this point, and she was certain he'd agree. She might even forgive him for those messages when all was said and done.

Hands linked once more, he led her to the end of hall, opening a door to a small room with a single bed tucked in a corner. His mouth found hers again as soon as the door shut, hands caressing her breasts. Thumbs circled her nipples, teasing them through her shirt until she broke their kiss.

“I believe we've had enough of this foreplay.” Her voice was raspy as she shrugged out of her jacket. She even ignored the shooting pain as she pulled her shirt off over her head, just in time to see Balkar’s shirt hit the floor. It seemed he was in as much a hurry as she was, both their hands racing to undress themselves.

Her eyes eagerly drank in the sight of him as he his pants fell past his hips, revealing the hard cock that had been hidden within, its tip already glistening. Her own panties were damp with her eagerness as she dropped them to the floor.

She crossed back over to him, playfully shoving him back onto the bed. His hands found her hips as she crawled on top of him. Already she could feel him poking against her wet folds. Stars, she wanted him inside her, but first...

Leaning down to press her lips against his, she purred. “I must say, Agent Balkar, I forgot what a fine Republic cock you have.”

“And I forgot what an Imperial tease you could be,” his own voice was hoarse, his hands tightening on her tips, trying to pull her onto him.

“Patience, Balkar,” she sat up straight, placing her hands over his as she spread her legs further apart, just enough to feel the head of his cock slide along her slit. Her breath hitched as she adjusted herself, feeling him poised just beneath her opening. “I just want us to savor…”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists, pulling herself down on him hard as he thrust up into her. Their moans intertwined, as she felt every inch of his heat fill her. It wasn't enough though. She needed more.

Using his hands as leverage to steady herself, she lifted herself slowly along his length and then back down. Each time, she used the same slow, deliberate motion, relishing in the way he felt buried deep in her, pushing against her inner most barriers.

“Kriffing, Seraph,” Balkar hoisted her off of him as he sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed, an unwelcome chill greeting the pulsing need between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing against his slick cock, just as he thrust back into her.

Another moan escaped her, and she held onto him as he took control, setting a far more aggressive pace than she had. She rocked her hips against his with each passing thrust, savoring every grunt and groan that escaped his throat, unable to repress her own. Her body began to tremble against his, her vision flickering with white. A warmth spread through her gut, euphoria clouding her mind as Balkar continued to thrust deep in her.

As that first wave began to subside, Balkar pulled her down hard onto his cock, his own orgasm ripping through him and sending another wave of pleasure through her. She collapsed against him, her body as slick with sweat as his, and he pulled her with him as he laid back on the bed.

A far more pleasant ache filled her, her mind begging her to curl up against him and sleep, especially with the way his arms hugged her to him. Stifling a yawn, she pressed a kiss on his chin. “Don't think for one moment that this gets you out of any of those promises regarding your tongue.”


	5. Galactic Favors

Thankfully, as the immediacy of their intimacy faded, the injuries Seraph ignored flared to life to keep her from falling asleep. Sleeping with an enemy agent wasn't a problem; letting her guard down around him, becoming overly comfortable with him, that would be an issue. As much as she enjoyed these rendezvous encounters with Balkar, too much would only lead to trouble.

She had her fill of that lately.

Sliding out of Balkar’s arms, she began collecting her clothes and redressing, wishing she had taken the time to put up her hair before she left now. Alas, she would have to find a way to persevere until she got back to her ship.

The bed creaked behind her, feet moving across the floor as she hiked her pants over her hips. His voice still carried a hint of husk, but otherwise it was decidedly neutral. “Care to explain those bruises?”

“As I told you, in reply to those foolish messages that you sent me, politics.” She left it vague intentionally. Her fondness for certain activities with him didn't preclude him from being an intelligence agent for the enemy. It was best to not mention sordid Imperial secrets.

Another shot of pain wracked through her core as she lifted her arms to pull on her shirt, and she wasn't able to repress the hiss of pain as she struggled with the task. Strong hands took the shirt from her hands, helping her into it. “You'd think the Empire would have better medical care for their agents.”

His hands lingered at the hem of her shirt, and she turned to see a concerned look in his blue eyes. Raising an eyebrow slightly, she refused to believe that he was doing anything more than playing her with that look, or his comments. “They have impeccable care, so long as the patient is willing. Suffice to say, I didn’t want to be laid up for any amount of time in a kolto tank.”

She raised her chin, staring him in the eyes, daring him to question her further. It wasn’t like she would ever admit to him, or aloud, her worry had she submitted to medical care. With Darth Jadus still out there, his daughter capable of roaming those very halls… No, she was not about to be compliant patient.

Balkar lifted a hand to her neck, his fingers tracing along the surely smudged makeup now. He raised an eyebrow of his own, regarding her with his silence. He could surmise whatever he wanted from those burn marks and bruises for all she cared. Still, her tone was far harsher than she intended when she spoke.  “Are you quite finished with your examination? Given the poor state of your coded messages, I’d hate to see what the Republic’s medical field training looks like.”

His hand dropped down to his side, as well as a few inches of breathing room. He had gotten mostly redressed himself before coming to her aid, though he had left his shirt mostly undone. “And yet you didn’t show any greater finesse with your reply.”

“Darling, after the simplicity of your first message, I feared you’d not understand anything more complicated.”

A smile touched his face, followed by a soft chuckle. He leaned against one of the walls, arms crossing over his chest. “Fair enough. I’ll try harder next time.”

“Which begs the question, why exactly did you lose your sensibility and ask for me to come see you? As much as I enjoyed the results of our initial meeting, I’d rather not have to report back to Intelligence on why SIS is wanting to meet with me.”

“Off the record?”

She pursed her lips, eyeing Balkar from across the room. He seemed far too relaxed to utter those words so casually. What was he after? “Fine, off the record.”

“I need a favor.” Her eyebrows rose, but he held up a hand. “And before you get too excited at the prospect that I'm asking you for help, you're the only one I can trust to help me here.”

“Darling, you should know better than to trust me.” A small smile played about her lips. “But suppose I was interested, what exactly are you needing me to do? And what would you do for me precisely?”

“Call it quid pro quo. You do this for me, and I'll owe you one in the future. Off the record, and within reasonable similarities.”

“Tempting, but I suspect you're coming to me because whatever you need is in Imperial territory.”

“Smart girl.” He strolled over to a table, picking up a datapad before holding it out to her. “All the details I have are here. Look it over, see if it's something you're willing to do. I won't get upset if you pass.”

She certainly curious to the details, and there was a fair chance whatever he wanted would be easy enough for her to access. Plus, the prospect of having Balkar owe her a favor was than a little enticing. She strolled over to him, taking the datapad. Her fingers flicked over the interface, perusing the information: a supposition about Imperial cloning technology focused on a single person, Dyrina Irlain.

“Who is this Dyrina? The head scientist of the project?” It was a curious read, to say the least, with little more than guesses. Whoever put it together did not have a knack for intelligence reporting, which meant this wasn't from an official SIS channel. How very curious of Balkar…

She lifted her eyes to his, and he simply shrugged. “That's everything I know.”

Liar. There was something else he, or whoever was pulling his strings, wasn't saying. “I'll let you know if I find anything.”

She handed the datapad back to him before turning to collect her jacket, slipping it back on. The best part of this little favor was that she might be able to get what he wanted here on Nar Shaddaa. “I can't help but notice that you're traveling a bit light.”

“Yes, well, some lowlife stole my pistol when you stood me up. Thanks for that.” Her vibroknife at least remained snug inside her boot.

The concern touched his face again, and that bothered her. She didn't need him, or anyone, to worry about her. “I can put in a requisition. Help get you back up to speed.”

“That's unnecessary. I survived Sith politics. I can survive cracked ribs and bruises.” It wasn't so much a slip, as just confirming what she figured he guessed already. “Besides, I wouldn't want you thinking that you've cashed in your side of this favor with a few medpacs.”

His eyes darkened, despite the curve of a wry smile on his face. “I expect you’ll dazzle me with your  _ Imperial _ efficiency.”

Ooh, she struck a chord that he didn't like. That was fine; he could sulk while she was away. She’d even let him have the last word, merely blowing him a kiss as she left the hotel.

She wondered what kind of delicious favors she could wrest from him when she brought him back the data on this Dyrina Irlain.

 

* * *

 

Seraph strolled into Network Access a short while later, having stopped only briefly to compose her appearance. Knowing she was going to be dealing with official Imperial representatives, it behooved her to look more the part - and not as if she rolled out of the nearest bed. After all, if she needed to use her clout from Intelligence to scurry the little officers about, she wasn't above doing that. The only people who didn't work about a possible Intelligence investigation were the Sith.

Fortunately, the officers on duty ignored her as she walked by; either they were slacking on their job, or they remembered her from when she passed through to deal with Watcher X. Regardless, she walked past several security terminals, making a mental note of where each of the cameras were located. She doubted sincerely that there were any blind spots, but it was best to double check.

When she was certain that there wasn't, she chose a terminal at random, her mind already formulating her plan of attack. There were several searches that she would need to do to mask her actual research. She’d space them out, and if ever asked, she was simply following up on leads that she overheard while tracking down those terrorist cells.

Keying in her security codes, she began with a rudimentary search on her newest subordinate, Vector Hyllus. Of course, she had received a complete dossier from the Diplomatic Service, but she wanted to be certain that there were no dark secrets that could blindside her. The terminal reported back to her much the same that she received, but it made note of a former romantic liaison of his: Anora.

It was likely nothing of merit as Vector seemed content to be part of this hive of his, but it was worth investigating the woman further. It was less important, so she merely sent trace data requests to have the information sorted for her and sent back.

Her next several searches regarded various Republic assets and personnel that she encountered, primarily on Balmorra and Alderaan. She made a great show of sifting through the material on the terminal, but she cared little for what was in the reports. She already knew the Republic had nothing to do with the terrorist or the Eradicators.  

It did grant her a cover for a connection to cloning programs. Why couldn't the Republic also have dabbled into such fields? It was as useful for them, as it was for the Imperials. Of course, there was little that wouldn't require the slicing of the terminal for her to obtain. Mainly, names of doctors and scientists associated with the program, yet no mention of this mysterious Dyrina Irlain.

She made the perfunctory checks for each of the names that did come up. One after another, the person was either assigned to a new project or gone from Imperial service altogether. There were no notations as to why, but often that meant either defections or retirement via termination. Not a single name in that list had any connection to this mystery person if Balkar’s.

Finally, she searched the name, enabling the terminal to cross check both the first and last name against all sources. It would take it a while to drum up results, but it would ensure that she uncovered any pertinent information. Otherwise, she'd have to report back to Dromund Kaas and try to access the data directly from Intelligence - a far riskier task.

A few results began to trickle into the terminal. There were several mentions of a Finley Irlain, a lieutenant in the service of the Republic, leader of the reformed Havoc squad special ops team. Apparently, the original team defected, which was likely useful information now that she could hazard a guess on who Balkar was fishing information for. It still didn’t answer much as to why beyond the obvious shared surname.

Several more records popped up finally: quite a number with the first name Dyrina and various surnames, and a handful with the surname Irlain. Wanting to eliminate the smaller selection, Seraph skimmed through the files, finding nothing that stood out remarkably. At least, not until she saw a mention of Perrin Irlain, a businessman from the Galactic Republic, believed to be associated with the disappearance of a Dyrina Sollest - daughter of a high standing house on Dromund Kaas.

Well, it seemed that the mystery revolving around Dyrina was solved. Apparently, the good lieutenant’s mother ran off to the arms of the Republic with her lover. How dreadfully unexciting, and that information wasn't going to garner her much of a return favor. It also didn't answer the question on why the lieutenant wanted to know about Imperial cloning programs.

Just as she was about to log out of the terminal, she saw one record for Dyrina Sollest. Perhaps there was a tiny bit more that she could discover before she returned with her poor offerings. Her holocom beeped as she loaded the file, but she ignored it as the face of a young blonde woman came into view. A sick feeling twisted in her gut as she more than recognized the familiar face staring out at her. 


	6. Blurred Lines

Standing along the promenade, Jonas Balkar stared across the sea of vehicles zipping through the neon colors of the night sky. Around him, there was a buzz of activity, the hint of music in the distance, and his mind was as far from any of it as it could be, lingering on the conversation he had hours before with a certain Imperial Intelligence operative.

The injuries, the refusal of Imperial treatment, the admission that whatever happened had to do with the Sith - it all bothered him. It shouldn't, and not just because of whom she worked for. It was part of the job, even for him. They could disavow him, cut him loose; he knew that if they had to choose him over the better good of the Republic - well, that choice was obvious.

But Seraph, she served a completely different kind of master. It was clear she was skilled at whatever they sent her to do, if she tangled with a Sith as she claimed… but if she couldn't trust them, what was the point? How could she return to them?

And what the hell was wrong with him? He had no idea what she did for the Empire on her missions. She could be just as complicit in some of their more heinous crimes. Just because he enjoyed sleeping with her, that didn't change the fact that she served the Empire, and acted on orders from their Emperor. He'd seen what they were capable of on Taris firsthand, and he'd read reports trickling in from Republic agents that were operating unsanctioned on Balmorra.

That was her choice in this war that they both knew was coming. If he hadn’t promised that damned Havoc squad lieutenant that he’d help him out, well, Jonas would have tried a lot better to stay away from her. Clearly, he couldn’t exactly trust himself around her, and that was more proof of the trouble he was in.

He invited her to hold a favor over him, to help someone else entirely. What the blasted hell was wrong with him? It was like putting a pile of glitterstims in front of an addict and just waiting to see what would happen.

His holocom chimed at him at the same time as another alert sounded in his ear. Ignoring the incoming call, he checked the alert on a datapad. Apparently, the tracker he placed on Seraph’s pistol pinged down in the lower level of the promenade. Either she left it intentionally, or she was worse off than she was letting on - he doubted that she would miss such an obvious tracker under normal circumstances. Regardless of the reason, the culprit was just a floor below him, and since he was insane enough to keep this Imperial agent in his orbit, it couldn't hurt to try and win her over with a gesture or two.

He took a moment to study the coordinates, noting that whoever had the pistol was stationary and looked fined inside the Slippery Slopes Cantina. Pocketing the datapad, he strolled back inside, making his way to lower level. His com beeped at him again, but he’d wait until after he got down to the side room of the cantina to see who was trying to get his ear. It wasn't like he could speak freely where he was.

The normal electronic music flowed from the cantina as he made his way to the entrance, covering most of the conversation that milled in the air. His eyes scanned the crowd as he entered; it was a proverbial needle in a haystack as almost everyone had pistols on their hips. But there was only brutish looking thug with a cybernetic implant over one eye, brandishing his in one hand - like he was bragging about something.

“I'm telling you, Jando, she’s easy pickings. Your boys can't miss such a pretty little bird.” There was no hiding the lustful overtone of the gravely voice that carried over to Jonas as he neared the pair. “I guarantee that she’d fetch a high sum of creds with the right client. All you gotta do is track her down. I already did my part.”

“ _ You're supposed to tag the mark too! _ ” The Rodian named Jando flicked a rude gesture to the human. “ _ How do we know she didn't take shuttle elsewhere? _ ”

It was disgusting to hear the two bicker between themselves. It was safe enough to presume that they were discussing selling people into some form of slavery, and as much as it revolted Jonas, it was to be expected in Hutt space. One of those things that he was expected to turn a blind eye towards so long as it wasn't interfering with his direct orders.

Forcing a lazy grin on his face, he walked right over to the pair, resting one hand on the pistol in the other human's fist. “Hey there, gentlemen. I see you're having quite a evening.”

Jando and his cyborg friend glared at him, and the cyborg attempted to wrest his hand free, but Jonas leaned his weight onto the man. “This is a private business discussion, so shove off before I make an example out of you.”

“With this old thing?” Jonas released the hand, slipping the pistol from the other man’s grip as he did. “Doubtful. Besides, I'd be less worried about your business ventures, and more about who you upset today.”

The Rodian’s mouth twitched, sneering as much as its alien features would allow. “ _ And just who might that be? Some flunky of yours?” _

“Oh no, I'm no one. But it seems your man here,” Jonas patted the cyborg’s shoulder, “he decided to lift this from one of Nemro’s lieutenants. I'm not sure who I'd be worried more about upsetting - that Hutt or her.”

“I bought that pistol…”

“Sure you did, pal.” He reached to the hilt of the pistol, prying out the tracker he inserted and dropping it on the table. “How about I just let her know that it was just a misunderstanding? Oh, and since I'm feeling gracious, I'll even forget to mention that whole slavery bit I overheard.”

He at least had the sputtering of the two would be slavers to amuse him as he disappeared into the side room. It was time to return that phone call.

 

* * *

 

“I don't care what you say, what you do, Agent Balkar, so long as you keep from assisting Havoc Squad. These matters are none of their concern. Is that clear?” Jonas ended the recording for the third time as he sat at his table alone. It seemed strange that Agent Zane reached out to him regarding… Well, Jonas had no idea what this was about.

He somehow doubted the personal request from Finley made it way through intelligence channels; Finley didn't strike him as the kind of man to talk to just anyone. So what had Havoc Squad stumbled into that already had Agent Zane riled up? Was it something to do with the defections? Had Garza’s refusal to share details with the intelligence community causing backlash along other channels?

Jonas made a mental note to search into it further, off the record, since Zane was already touting his rank as reason enough to keep in line. Yet, the clear boundary being drawn only drew more attention to it, as far as Jonas was concerned. Most intelligence agents worth their weight would be asking the same questions, that was why they were good at their jobs.

It was just something that Jonas would have to put on the back burner, for now. He didn’t need his other intelligence problem finding out anything about that internal snafu. She was going to cause him enough problems as it were. He still questioned his sanity for even asking her in the first place. It was like he lost the good sense he normally had as soon as he was within touching distance of the woman.

Blast it, he needed a stiff drink.

Just as he was about to motion for a server, his holocom chimed at him, an unfamiliar frequency calling through. Getting to his feet, he moved to a corner of the room away from other patrons before he answered. A flickering resolution of Seraph sprung to life on his com, surprising him more than anything - even if he kept it from showing on his face.

She looked a far cry from the contented predator that left his hotel room earlier. Agitation rode through her voice as she folded her arms over her chest. “What kind of fool do you take me for, Balkar?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy with me,  _ Jonas _ .”

That took him aback. When had she ever called him by his first name? And somehow, she made that hurt worse than any insult she could have hurled at him. It stung more than he thought it should, not that he’d let on to that. Besides, whatever happened, whatever she learned, it necessitated her forgoing the usual channels of contact they went through. All the more reason to play this cool, and not let on that anything about this whole arrangement bothered him.

“Seraph,” he kept his voice as even as possible, “I’m afraid you have me at a loss. Why don’t you come by the cantina? I’d be happy to discuss whatever is bothering you.”

Her arms fell back down to her side, her posture growing rigid. “Bothering me? Did you think I’d enjoy being on the other end of this joke of a mission you sent me on?”

“Look, I think we can both agree that this isn’t the place to be discussing… whatever it is you found out. Just come meet me. We’ll figure it out together. I’ve got a few promises that I still owe you from before…” He offered her a slight hint of a smile, hoping that maybe, she’d still find him charming enough to consider it. If he had to use physical charms to diffuse the situation, well, it wasn’t so much a hardship.

It just kept making things… difficult to interpret between them.

“I’m sorry, darling, but that won’t be happening. Not until you do something for me first.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting. After all, she had all the cards right now; something she was making abundantly clear. “I’ve decided to call in my favor already, on account of obtaining this  _ critical _ information that you were after.”

Right, it was just business now. He let his own smile fade away. He could play this game of hers, if it’s what she really wanted. “And what about the delivery of the information? I believe that was part of  _ our _ deal.”

“Oh, you’re in luck, darling. I’ve decided to let you off the hook from owing me anything major. I will deliver my information, in full, to the Republic toadie you wanted me to gather it for. Tell this Finley Irlain that he’ll get this information once he meets with me. No sooner. You do this, and I’ll call our little bargain complete.” She cut the call before he could respond, not that he thought he could. His stomach felt like lead, his throat tight.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse…What the hell had Finley asked him to look into?

 

* * *

 

Jonas was seriously reconsidering his agreement to aid - the now  - Captain Irlain. It wasn't just the off the books assignment that he was caught up in; it seemed that Finley was pissing off a lot of good old boys in the Republic, and Jonas was the one suffering for it. Since apparently, Agent Zane felt that the Captain couldn't possibly handle things on his own without SIS help.

Which wasn't entirely wrong, but Jonas only mentioned in passing that it would be a shame if someone went nosing around that detention center. As far as he was concerned, his hands were clean, and Finley had sense enough to take the full blame when he overheard part of that reprimand. It didn't make what he needed to discuss with Finley any easier.

As the Captain and his Lieutenant Aric Jorgan were about to leave, Jonas cleared his throat. “Captain, could I have a word in private?”

Jorgan gave him a hard stare, but he kept his mouth shut as he inclined his head to the Captain and headed out. That was at least something positive - Jorgan only moderately disliked him.

Finley stood at parade rest, waiting for the door to shut. “What can I do for you, Jonas?”

“It's about that matter you asked about.” It was a vague statement, but it got the point across as Finley nodded.

“Were you…”

Jonas shook his head, noticing how Finley clenched his jaw to stop from saying anything further. “I had to ask a favor of someone, a reliable contact. They… she found something, but she wants to discuss it with you directly.”

“Me? What the hell did you tell her?”

“I didn't tell her anything about you, but she’s smart.”  _ And an enemy agent, _ but he didn't say that aloud. “It’s not hard to connect the dots between your mother back to you.”

The jaw of the blonde man twitched, the silence stretching like miles between the two. Whatever was going through the soldier’s mind, he was keeping it to himself. Maybe he should have done that to begin with, instead of asking Jonas to snoop around in his family’s history. Eventuanlly though, Finley nodded again. “Fine. I'll meet her. If you trusted her enough to help you, then it shouldn't be an issue.”

Trust. Yeah, that wasn't a word he was sure he'd use. Not to mention, he knew there was going to be a huge issue the moment Finley recognized Seraph as Imperial. The man just spent months dealing with Republic defections to the Empire; he wasn’t sure that Finley Irlain was going to understand that intricacies of working with an enemy operative. Still, they didn’t have much of a choice.  “Just keep an open mind. I'll arrange the meeting.”

Jonas slipped off to make the call. He had no way of knowing if she was still on the moon, but he suspected that she was waiting for this meeting. All he could do now was hope that all parties managed to get out of the meeting alive.

 

* * *

 

The hardest part about getting Finley to go along with this meeting was the fact that Jonas had to insist that no one else be there apart from him. None of his crew could be present, or Seraph refused to come. At least she agreed to meeting at a relatively neutral location, and one to certainly mess with Jonas. After all, it was the same hotel room that they had recently shared. Was she trying to ensure that he was as uncomfortable as possible through this ordeal?

As he rode the lift with Finley, who he barely convinced to abandon his armor in favor of civilian clothes for the meeting, Jonas kept his eyes locked on the door of the lift. His mind raced despite the cool demeanor he kept for the Captain’s sake. He was biding his time, waiting until the last moment to warn Finley what he was walking into. He just hoped the Captain would understand, or else, he was about to kiss his career goodbye.

Kriffing, she’d better have found something good to make him take such a risk.

The lift came to a stop, the door sliding open. Jonas repressed his sigh, strolling out towards the room at the end of the hall. Finley’s heavy footfalls sounded behind him, like a drum line for Jonas’ funeral, only stopping was they arrived at the room.

Turning to look at Finley, Jonas met the man’s blue eyes, full of uncertainty. Kriff, she’d pick up up on that in a heartbeat, and she would spin it to her advantage. Keeping his voice low, he tried to settle the Captain’s nerves.  “Like I said before, keep an open mind. My contact is reliable, but unconventional. Don't be too quick to judge.”

Jonas received quiet and curt nod; the man maintained a silent disposition for most of the trip. Why should anything change now? Honestly, at this point, he didn’t know if her was more worried about the biting acerbic tongue of the Imperial agent he knew was on the other side, or for the taciturn Republic soldier accompanying him.

The room was dark as they entered, washing Jonas in an uneasiness. It was the first time that he wondered if this wasn’t so sort of elaborate trap she’d concocted to get her hands on Finley. Jonas was nothing in comparison to an up and coming star of the Republic army, and maybe she wasn’t quite off duty as she led him to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time that she fooled him into thinking incorrectly about her. And Seraph was angry, for whatever reason. Would she be so bold as to strike out at both of them? She did fight a Sith Lord and live…

His throat tightened when the light flickered to life, stopping his thoughts as the lights revealed Seraph - leaning against a far wall. Her blond hair was pinned up once more, and a long dark grey coat obscured most of her dark clothing while making her own blue eyes stand out. There was no hint of a smile on her face, just a stony countenance as she stared down the men that entered.

Without hesitation or provocation, Finley drew his sidearm, aiming it directly at Seraph.  “Is this some kind of joke, Jonas?”

“Captain,” Jonas strode slowly towards the other man, intent on helping him lower the weapon. Whatever was going on in his head, this was not the way to play it. It was only going to make matters worse.  “It's like I said…”

“Oh, don't be so overly dramatic,  _ baby brother _ ,” Seraph cut off Jonas with her words, her lips sneering along the family endearment as she stared resolutely at Finley. “And do put that thing away. You'll get no information from me if you kill me.”

“Brother?” Jonas wasn't sure if it was Finley or himself that spoke. It didn't matter who though. They just had to figure out why… Oh, blasted hell, was Seraph the woman Finley thought was his mother’s doppelgänger?

Finley seemed unfazed as he kept his pistol trained on Seraph. “More Imperial lies, I take it. I suppose they teach you all sorts of reprehensible talents at the cloning facility.”

“Don't be a dolt,  _ brother.  _ I admit that the resemblance to our mother was striking, but I'm not her clone. Merely familial as it turns out.” A hint of a predatory smile touched her face. “Now put that thing away, and perhaps I'll regale you with a tale. That is if you can believe my reprehensible lies.”

Finley’s arm remained rigid, his eyes locked on Seraph’s. Blast, how did he miss this? These two practically had the same eyes; it was so kriffing obvious now. Jonas placed a hand on the gun, still unsure what Finley would decide to do. Thankfully, the Captain decided to at least keep things as civil as they could be, as he didn’t bother to hide the disgusted note in his voice as he holstered his weapon. “Say whatever it is you want. Don’t expect me to believe a word of it though. You’re nothing more than some experiment they’ve let loose.”

Her smile lingered, although Jonas noticed how her lips pursed slightly at Finley’s words, her eyes darkening. “Oh, yes, how could I forget. You’re the noble Republic hero, ever on the side of good and justice. Nary a false word has ever crossed those lips. Tell me, little brother, do they install that stick up your arse, or was that something you were born with?”

Finley’s arm twitched back towards his gun, but Jonas placed his hand on the wrist, looking to the woman taunting the soldier. “Seraph...”

“Don’t  _ Seraph _ me, Agent Balkar. Lest you forgot, I uncovered this information at your behest. If the good Captain cannot handle the news, that’s unfortunate for him, but it shan’t change anything.” Her eyes remained locked on Finley, but the taunting tone in her voice slipped towards the anger he heard earlier. “Now, brother…”

“You can quit calling me that.” Finley’s voice was hard as he cut her off. “Even if there is a remote chance that it’s true, that doesn’t make us family.”

Seraph half-laughed, the anger slipping away, her predatory smile growing. “Of that, I’d be happy to agree. No amount of the truth could ever make us family. However, I assure you that your fanciful delusions that I must be some Imperial experiment meant to tarnish the image and name of  _ our  _ poor mother is just that… a delusion.”

“You expect me to believe that my parents just happened to have another child? One that they’ven ever mentioned, and one that they left in the hands of the Empire?” It was an incredulous notion to be certain, and Jonas didn't fault Finley for not wanting to believe that of his parents. Did the Captain know why his mother left her home planet?

Still Finley jerked his arm from Jonas’ touch, half stepping towards Seraph. She stood straight herself, lifting her chin as if she dared him to come closer. “Well, you would have to talk to our parents for that information. I couldn’t begin to fathom what lies they’ve been feeding you your entire life. But it wasn’t terribly difficult to connect the dots once I had all the information. After all, how odd that a woman that I bear a striking resemblance towards, one you have admitted yourself is there, disappears in connection with a man with the same last name as yours, within the same week that I was left at an Imperial orphanage as mere infant, according to my own records.”

“Records could be doctored.”

“True, but how does that explain the uncanny resemblance? And why bother fabricating a record for that precise date?”

Finley threw a hand in the air, gesturing at her like she was some obscenity he had seen the first time. “Part of your cover? A way to make it all the more plausible? I don’t know. For all I know, they implanted you with all sorts of false memories to help you deceive people.”

Jonas bit back his tongue as he bore witness, not sure what to make of these revelations. It was awkward enough to be here for what should have been a private, apparently family, matter. Maybe he could just blend into the wall, disappear, before this somehow got worse.

“Oh, yes, that’s right. It’s far more believable that the deception must be from the Empire, and not your beloved parents.” Her predatory smile fell as she clenched her fists at her side. Well, he knew why she had been so angry now, or at least he surmised as much. “The ones that I’m sure filled your life with all sorts of pleasant, wonderful memories as a child. As opposed to my false ones. Let me guess, you suspect that I was brought up in a strict and rigid academy, where I was fed Imperial doctrine for every meal until I became a living breathing mindless drone for the Empire? After all, that’s the only way a person could ever willingly serve such a master, yes?”

“It’s hard to fathom why anyone could stand with such tyranny.”

Jonas half turned from the pair, unable to watch them any longer. Given their tones, their words, neither seemed willing to give any ground, and he found himself having a hard time reconciling his own part in this - even if he had no idea what he was helping to uncover.

“Well, let me paint you a picture, baby brother. While I’m sure you had your happy little name days, your pleasant holidays with  _ our _ beloved parents, I had the true pleasure of being acquired by a Sith lord. You see, he liked to frequent the orphanages every so often. He found that the best slaves were the ones that were obtained when they were still young. They’re less likely to object their treatment. Have you ever actually been in the household of a Sith Lord?”

There was pure malice in her voice, sinking the lead weight in his stomach with her every word. He couldn't imagine having a childhood like that, and somehow turning out to be anything more than a wretched monster. But she was more than that, right?

“No, you needn’t answer. I wager neither of you have had that distinct pleasure. Do you know what kind of fear it is to know that if you were clumsy while doing your chores, as children often are, and knocked over any one of priceless antiques placed about the estate… “ Her voice grew soft a moment. “Well, there are always more orphans to replace the ones that failed this Sith. Fortunately, I learned fast, taking care to not draw any undue attention upon myself. Not that I still didn’t see my fair share of punishment, of torture. Because slaves that fear their Master are even more important.”

“And yet, after all that, you still work for the Sith.” Finley snorted, only furthering the sick feeling taking over Jonas. The Captain was unrelenting in his own disgust and anger. It didn't matter if Jonas asked himself the same question. “It really couldn’t have been all that bad if you could still side with them. Or maybe it’s just some sob story that you cooked up to try and make me feel sorry for you, to believe your lies.”

“I gain nothing from lying to you. If you choose to believe me, well, I could care less if you did. Your disbelief erases nothing. Not any of the beatings, not any of his personal tortures with his mind tricks and lightning, not… nothing.” Her voice hitched for a moment there, and Jonas turned back around to see the fury radiating in her eyes as she glared at Finley. There was something more that she had almost said, but she caught herself.

“Then boo-boo, Princess. I don't see you balking at standing alongside the Sith. You know what they can do first hand, and still you do nothing to stop them. Don't expect me to cry for you like you had no other option.” Finley took another step toward her, but Jonas grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

Shaking her head, Seraph pulled a datapad from her coat, dropping it to the ground. “I'd keep your Republic dog on his leash, Agent Balkar. After all, I have upheld our bargain in more than a satisfactory fashion. I'll be leaving you to whatever it is you care to do with that information, but I suggest you keep me out of any of your future plans.”

She started towards the door, and Finley made no move to stop her. She stopped briefly as the door slid open, looking to Jonas. Her eyes glistened with anger and pain. It stilled the breath in his chest just to see it, and it told him everything. She had been honest, and there were wounds that neither of them could ever hope to comprehend. “Seraph…”

“If either of you breathe a word of this…”

She left the threat hanging in the air as she breezed from the room and to the lift. Jonas wanted to go after her, more than just to make sure she was okay. She had to know that he had no clue what he asked of her, but his feet refused to move. Chances were he would only make things worse.

Kriffing hell, this was a larger mess than he'd ever imagined. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodian dialogue italicized to indicate that he was speaking a different language.


	7. Military Intelligence

If matters weren't already bad enough, Finley looked ready to storm out of the apartment right behind his sister. Yeah, that was a bad idea if Jonas let it happen, which is why he stepped between the soldier and the door, holding up a hand. Even if Finley just wanted to leave and not confront Seraph, she deserved enough courtesy to not have to worry about having this continue in a more public venue.

Her mask would be in place, by now, but Jonas doubted Finley even knew the concept of one, which would only complicate the matters if Finley did had allusions of chasing after the Imperial woman. The frosty glare from the Captain didn't help assure Jonas that Finley wouldn't do something rash, stupid.  “I suggest you move, Agent.”

“Probably better if you cool your jets here, Captain.”

An angry hand grabbed the lapel of Jonas’ jacket, jerking him forward. Finley wasn't much larger than Jonas, but the Captain did spend a lot more time on the front lines. And he clearly had issues handling his temper. “Cool my jets? Seriously? After you ambushed me with…  _ her _ ? An Imperial Agent, of all things?”

“I told you,” Jonas shoved the man back, with just enough force to ensure he was released from his grasp, “my contact was unconventional. I had a pretty decent idea that you wouldn't have agreed to come if you knew exactly why.”

Finley snorted, running a hand through the short crop of blonde hair, the movement as tense as the man’s shoulders. “You don’t say. Tell me, why exactly do you have an Imperial contact like that, Agent? Contemplating changing sides?”

“Don't be absurd.” Jonas crossed his his arms over his chest, knowing full well that the Captain was trying to bait him into something reckless. As insulting as the comment was, Jonas wasn’t about to give him the upper hand. “It's my job to have contacts that aren't traditionally available.”

“And conveniently off the books.”

It was like a blasted brick wall was speaking to him. Repressing the sigh at the back of his throat, Jonas shook his head at the soldier. It was a bit astonishing that Finley was an elite spec ops officer at the moment. “Anything on the books would be a death sentence. I highly doubt that the Sith are so kind to simply disavow agents that they have no use for. And if her cover is blown to the Republic… Let’s just call it a professional courtesy.”

Feeling certain that Seraph had more than enough time at this point to slip out of the building, Jonas walked past Finley to wear the discarded datapad laid on the floor. It seemed that the Captain wasn’t in quite so much a hurry to run out the door either, as the angry tone carried to Jonas. “Oh right, a  _ courtesy _ . I'm sure she'd be so fast to extend the same to you.”

“Are you intentionally being dense? Do you think I'd be able to operate here if my identity was widely circulated by Imperial Intelligence?” Jonas never bothered to look up from the datapad as he attempted to open it, but it seemed Seraph both locked and encrypted the file.  “And for the record, she had me pegged the first time she met me on Dromund Kaas.”

Jonas winced as soon as the words left his mouth. That was not going to help his case any here. “Taking vacations to the Imperial capital? Funny, I don’t remember seeing anything about you running any ops there.”

“Because officially it never happened.” Jonas sat down in a nearby chair, sparing the briefest of glances to Finley who stood, rigid as ever, across the room, while he worked on slicing the datapad open. “There are quite a few missions that have been omitted from my official file, just like I'm sure they were glossed over in yours.”

That at least bought him a few moments of silence to work. It wasn't that this was the most difficult encryption he'd worked on, but he was finding it hard to concentrate between Finley’s badgering and his mind working over Seraph’s words - as they actually sunk in.

She grew up as a slave to a Sith Lord before somehow making her way over to Imperial Intelligence. He doubted that was an easy transition, and it forced him to ponder new questions. Was she still connected to this Sith? Was that why she still served them? What else he she chosen to hide?

There was more to the story; he knew that. Her voice… how Finley missed that slight catch. Jonas shook his head as finally the datapad relinquished its secrets to him.

“Let me guess… it's blank.” The scorn of Finley’s voice jarred Jonas out of his own thoughts, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

There was a wealth of information on the datapad, but he'd let the Captain see it for himself, holding it out to the other man. “Not even close.”

Finley snatched it from Jonas’ hand, his brow furrowing as he scrolled through the data. “Is this…”

“I didn't really look at it, but I'd wager that's information about Imperial cloning experiments. Apparently, she doubted that you'd believe her. Can't imagine why.” Jonas didn't hide the contempt in his own voice, leaning back in the chair. He'd be glad when the Captain marched himself back to his ship, and Jonas could help himself to a stiff drink, or three.

Finely continued to peruse the datapad in his hands. “Yeah, I'm so  _ sorry _ that I wasn't overly familiar with her. Don't think I didn't notice how you’re on a first name basis with her. I probably don't want to know how compromised you are at this point.”

Jonas half-laughed at the notion. It was absurd to consider really. He was hardly compromised by Seraph, or had Finley missed the whole part about professional courtesy between rival agents. That was all there was between them. Well, there was the sex too, but he wasn't about to share that with the Captain. “I assure you; she has no hold over me. I'm not turning over Republic secrets, or whatever else you are fearing in that paranoid mind of yours.”

“You sound pretty blasted sure of yourself, but tell me… “ Finley paused, crossing his arms over his chest as he tucked the datapad against his side, “Do you really think you can trust her? That at some point, she won’t decide to choose the Empire over whatever courtesies you think you have with her? That this isn’t some kind of long game to subvert you to their cause?”

That was always a possibility - even if she never once asked him to change sides. No, if anyone was trying to play him, it was Finley right now. He was so blasted determined to ensure that Seraph was a villain that he was refusing to relent. “No, I don’t think it’s some kind of long game. She just handed us, the Republic, what could be classified Imperial experiments. No questions, no demands. And yet, you still won’t even try to believe that maybe she’s not some kind of awful monster.”

“What? She turns over details on some defunct operations, and she’s really a good person at heart? Are you really that blind, Jonas?”

“Look, far be it for me to defend the Empire, but just because it’s bad, that doesn’t mean all the people are.” Jonas leaned back in his chair, not breaking eye contact with Finley. He was surprised by the words coming out of his mouth, because he wasn’t sure where they were coming from as he said them. Still, was it wrong to want to believe that people could be more than their institution? “Even if she’s working for them, that doesn’t mean that she’s automatically committing war crimes. What if she’s managing to do some good from behind the scenes?”

Finley grew quiet, and for a half second, Jonas thought maybe Finley might have a clear head prevailing, despite the tight jawline from the soldier trying to maintain some amount of control over his temper. When he did speak, it was through gritted teeth, his voice wavering from that very same anger. “Fine, you want to defend her so much, be her shining knight, then get me proof. You want me to believe that the poor tortured, yet highly trained covert operations specialist, is somehow really a good person in the wrong place… Get me proof. Show me that she’s not committed some atrocities in the name of the Empire. Until you do, I stand by my judgment.”

“Somehow, I doubt that it would matter what proof I get. So why should I waste my time?” Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose with a shake of his head. He was going to need more than a drink at this rate. Maybe he could request a change of duty station?

“To prove me wrong? Or are you just scared I may be right?” Jonas dropped his hand as he raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t take the bait. Emotions ran high, so hopefully, when Finley left and calmed down, he’d realized what a kriffing idiot he was. “How about I give you some motivation? Either find me the proof, or I hand over her dossier to my CO.”

A cold dread filled Jonas’ stomach at the threat, threatening to make him sick. The callous way Finley was willing to disregard everything he learned for the stubborn sake of his pride, it finally broke Jonas’ resolve. “It’s your blasted sister! Do you want to get her killed?”

“That’s your assignment,  _ Agent _ . I suggest you get to it.”


	8. The Ugly Truth

Taking the steps to his ship two at a time, Finley punched his entrance code into the airlock, datapad still tucked under one arm. Voices called out to him as he made his way to his private bunk, droid and human alike, but none of the words registered in his ears - not even Dorne’s. (And he normally made excuses to stop and speak with her.) His mind was still back in that hotel room, trying desperately to make sense of that conversation he left.

Sister.

That  _ woman _ was his sister.

How in the blasted name of any forsaken Hutt was he supposed to believe that? Sure, he got that this agent looked like family, and upon closer look… Yes, she didn’t quite look just like his mother as he thought when he saw her on the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Her eyes, though, were just like his mom’s, his. Still, that didn’t make it any easier to believe, or accept.

And it was more than just the fact that she was a servant to the Sith Empire. The idea that his parents hid the fact that they had another child - it was absurd! To have them never mention it, or even allude to it, in all his years… No, he just couldn’t believe they were capable of that kind of deception. It had to be some kind of gross mistake.

The urge to slam his fist into something, anything, filled him again, but he reined in the impulse. If nothing else, he didn’t want to damage the datapad if there was something important on it. But still, the pit of rage threatened to consume him, his arms quivering as he paced the small confines of his quarters, tossing the datapad to his bed. He knew what he had to do, even after the threat he leveled on Agent Balkar.

He had to speak with his parents. Then he’d have his proof that his so-called sister was nothing more than a filthy liar.

The only problem was that this was something best done in person, and there was no way he was going to be able to swing that. Technically, his ship should have left Nar Shaddaa hours ago, as they had a priority mission on Balmorra. He couldn’t delay that any more than he already had without answering some questions that he’d rather avoid. So, his options were to let this rage stew, and threaten to bubble over into his interactions with his men, or he was going to have to do this over a holocall.

Blast it!

Finley ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, letting out a slow breath to try and steady his nerves, to calm the storm of his anger. No matter how much he didn’t want to make this call, it had to be done. He just hoped that if his mother answered, that he’d be able to pretend well enough that everything was okay for her sake. This was not something that he would take up with her.

Ensuring that the door was locked to his quarters, Finley pulled out his holocom, sitting on the edge of his bed as he sent off the transmission to his home. His stomach continued to tie itself in knots as he waited for an answer, his head beginning to throb.

The call connected, a flickering image of an older man with greying hair appearing before him. His green eyes crinkled with happiness as they rested on Finley, who forced a smile on his own face. “Son! I wish you had let us know you were planning on calling. Your mother would have loved to have been here. She went to go see a play with our neighbor, Onderra.”

“Well, be sure to apologize for me, and give her my love.” The words felt heavy as they came through Finley’s mouth. He meant them, but he was more than happy to know his mother wasn’t around. How anyone made a life out lying was beyond him… “And I’m sorry for springing the call on you like this, but something came up that I needed to talk to you about.”

His father raised an eyebrow, the same jovial smile on his face. The smile Finley knew was going to fade as soon as he uttered the words at the back of his throat. “Oh, what’s that, Fin?”

Blast it, his guts were in knots, and he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with any kind of tact, or grace. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he did the only thing he knew how. He went straight for the kill. “Did you and mother have another child?”

The smile fell from his father’s place, his green eyes growing wide. “What in blazes are you talking about, Fin?”

“It’s really simple, Father. Before you helped mother flee the Empire, did you have a child?” Finley’s grip tightened on the holocom device in his hand, and he gritted his teeth as he watched the torrent of emotion of cross over his father’s face. How in the name of a blasted Hutt could that even be true?

His father broke eye contact, looking to the ground, his image flickering. “Son.. .Finley, look. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation. Maybe if you came home…”

“How could you hide this from me? How could you leave your own kid to the Empire?” The sharp words tasted acrid on his tongue, and he didn’t even attempt to hide the anger from his face. This was not the family that he thought it was if they could keep something like this secret.

His father sighed, shaking his head once more. He scrubbed a hand over his face, his voice quivering even as he tried to calm his face. “It’s not what you think, Finley. We didn’t want to leave her, but we didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re serious? You want me to believe that you had no better option than to leave your own child behind?” His hand trembled as he tried to relax his grip on the holocom. The temptation to hang up was great, as he didn’t want to hear whatever excuses his father wanted to sell him.

His father’s voice grew hard, his eyes drawing together as his lips became a thin line. “It’s the truth, Fin. You may be off fighting against the Empire, but you’ve never had to live under their thumb. Your mother and I have done what we could to shield you from what she endured.”

“But it was okay for your daughter?”

The words left Finley’s mouth before he realized that he was going to say them, and he instantly regretted them. For the first time in his life, he saw a cold mask descend over his father’s face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what you think you’ve learned, but I did not raise you to speak like this to me. And I’m certainly glad your mother isn’t around to hear it either. We wanted the best for her, and for you. As you can see, we clearly failed her.”

“But why? Why did you fail her?” His own anger began to melt as he tried to reason with his father. No matter how hard this was for him, maybe it was worse for his parents. Maybe that was why they never said anything throughout the years. “You want me to understand, to respect you, but all I know is that I somehow have a sister that grew up a thrall to the Empire. So, make me understand, Father.”

“Finley, do you understand how difficult a subject this is for me? For your mother?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head. There was a note of disgust in his father’s voice as he spoke. “When we first met, first fell in love, her parents were arranging a marriage for her to some Sith. She didn’t want that kind of life though, so I promised her that I’d get her out of there - anyway I could. And I did. I found a guy who could smuggle her offworld; it was the only way to try and hide her movements from the Sith. By the time all the arrangements could be made, your mother was rather pregnant with our child though. Still, the stress of hiding the pregnancy, and the fear of getting caught… she went into early labor when we met with the smuggler. Even then though, we managed to deliver the baby safely. It’s just that…”

There was a catch in his father’s voice as he broke off, shaking his head. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and Finley regretted the harsh tone that he initially took with the man. He was even surprised by how rough his own voice sounded when he spoke. “What went wrong?”

“The smuggler didn’t plan on there being an infant. He refused to bring us along if we brought the child, saying the cries would give away that he was smuggling people in the compartments. I begged him to help though, knowing that your mother would never leave without our child. Not that I wanted to leave either of them behind. I promised to pay him triple if he found any way to get us all out.” The same bitterness and disgust crept back in his father’s voice as he spoke, and Finley realized just how hard this must have been for his father, for his mother. It made it all the more remarkable that they kept this hidden from him, when clearly his father was filled with self-loathing over what happened. “And he did, but it wasn’t the best solution. He found an orphanage that was run by someone willing to slip her into the records with the right amount of credits. The smuggler would make sure we got off safely then, and he’d come back for our child after he got the proper paperwork forged to bring the child offworld under a false name.”

It wasn’t the best plan, but it made sense enough. He could imagine that it was still difficult to convince his mother to agree to that plan. If she hadn’t, kriffing, Finley wouldn’t even be here. Who knows what that Sith would have done to his mother had he found out that she was trying to flee his marriage, and that she had a child with another person? Pushing that thought from his mind, he swallowed the knot in his throat. “So what went wrong? Your guy never go back after he dropped you off in Republic space?”

“No, he went back, but his contact was dead. Half the kids that had been in the orphanage were gone, including… “ His father’s voice broke again, but he kept the tears at bay, his jaw tight. “Including your sister. He tried to find her, but all he could find out was that a Sith came through and took a bunch of the kids. After that, I couldn’t get anyone who would look into the matter, and I tried. For years, I tried.”

“Why hide this from me then?” It still baffled him, and try as he might, he couldn’t hide the agitation in his voice. It was less than before, but it was still present. “It’s not like I couldn’t have understood this when I was old enough.”

The steel began to show itself in his father’s voice once more. “Because it nearly broke your mother. I only stopped trying to find your sister because I couldn’t bare to see the hope fade in her eyes, and that same pain resurface. She’s been through too much to have that wound opened again, and again, and again.”

As much as Finley didn’t like it, he at least understood why his father kept quiet about this secret. It was to protect his mother, to spare her. He nodded to his father. ““I won’t say a word to her about his, Father. I promise.”

“Thank you, Fin. Just…” His father’s arms dropped back to his side as he sighed, and he seemed far more haggard, older, now than when Finley had called minutes ago. “How did you even find out?”

“I can’t discuss that. It’s…” Complicated wasn’t the right word, and clearly if they saw what became of the child that they left behind… It would hurt them more than soothe any of their wounds. “Classified. I guess I just didn’t think it could be true. I’m sorry for handling it poorly.”

A soft smile crept back to his father’s face. “It’s alright, Fin. I’m sorry that you didn’t hear it from me first. I know it had to be a shock. Just know, that if there had been a better way, we would have done it differently. It doesn’t mean that we didn’t love her, didn’t want her. And it made us all the more grateful for you. So please, be careful out there?”

“I always am.” As much as he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to smile in return. It was a lot to process, even if he did understand the reasons now. “Give my love to my mother when she gets home.”

As the call ended, Finley wrapped his hands around the back of his neck as he hung his head, the holocom clattering to the floor. If his sister had been telling the truth about the orphanage, had she been honest about everything? Could he really hate her for becoming the product of an environment that she had been left to?


	9. Ghosts of the Past

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: Hope you don’t mind... _

 

_ I used the key you left.  _

 

_ <encrypted data file> _

_ Look, I doubt you are willing to believe me, but I had no clue about this family connection. Or that Finley was a captain grade jackass. _

_ I’m going to be away from Nar Shaddaa for awhile. Can’t really say where, but I should be able to swing some leave time. With notice. _

_ If you want to talk. Or not.  _

_ Just be careful out there. _

 

* * *

 

Soft orange light tinted the clouds of the Balmorran sky as Jonas walked the streets of Sobrik. There was a chill in the air that still carried a hint of smoke, and he pulled his collar closer as he hustled to his destination. The fighting had ceased a few days ago, with a cadre of different forces aligning to ensure the Republic’s success, part of why Jonas got pulled from his assignment on Nar Shaddaa. Rumor had it that Captain Irlain was amongst the stoke forces, but he had moved on towards the arms factory based on the latest intel regarding Imperial holdouts.

Fortunately, Jonas and the Captain had yet to cross paths, but he figured it was only a matter of time. It was an inevitable conversation, and he hoped the Captain had a change of heart from the last time. With the work that Jonas had been putting into the mission on Balmorra, Jonas had not been able to even begin to try and find the information Finley demanded about Seraph. Not that he thought much existed, if any. Intelligence operatives would be bad at their job if they left a trail.

For now though, there were prisoners that had been liberated that Jonas needed to help assist in their debriefing - and possible assessment of the prisoners. SIS believed that an enemy operative or Imperial sympathizer had been inside Sobrik when they took the city. It was possible that the person killed or escaped, but it was also just as likely that the person hid amongst the prisoners. All in all, not an awful assignment, and he really was there just to observe the reactions from afar, and coach a few questions as needed.

Strolling into the building tucker away from the debriefings, Jonas made his way to the observation room. An auburn haired woman sat with her back to the door, already watching the recordings available. The short bob of her hair revealed a slender neck and bronzed skin, one hand twirling a stylus between her fingers as she watched in silence. A familiar voice called out over her shoulder as the door slid shut. “So glad you could finally join me, Jonas.”

“Janesa, fancy seeing you out here.” He helped himself into the seat next to her, his eyes scanning the videos playing of the various prisoners. “I thought you were still attached to the Alderaan civil war.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the stylus continue to twirl, her voice only partially covered with mirth as she spoke. “And I thought you were still slumming it on a Hutt moon. It turns out that I’m used to being disappointed when it comes to you though.”

“Ouch, low blow there, Janesa. Don’t tell me you’re still holding a grudge from that night years ago?” He chuckled a bit, not really caring if she did. He knew Janesa back from his days training to become a SIS field operative, and where they enjoyed each other’s company from time to time, it was never anything serious.

She tapped the stylus against the desk, and the videos changed to different ones, showing a whole host of different people. There were at least twelve people that they were going to siphon through. “What kind of grudge would there be to hold? You promised me a  night I’d never forget. Just you, me, and Shan. Except neither of you ever showed.”

“Something else came up.” It wasn't even so much a lie, as he did remember that there had been quite the heated conversation between him and his friend Theron when Jonas told him of the possible torrid threeway. Jonas had hoped it would be a great way to capstone the end of their training; Theron had disagreed. That was part of things Janesa needn't know about though.

Images on the recordings flipped again, the stylus tapping once more against the desk. Four recordings played before them: a large military looking human male with his arms crossed over his chest, a Zabrak woman biting at her lower lip, a Cathar woman scowling at the door, and another human male smaller than the first with a rather relaxed look on his face. “Shan get shy?”

“Hardly. Turns out, he wasn’t a big fan of yours. Something about you being an insufferable know-it-all.” He pointed to the large man in one of the monitors. “Republic military?”

“Well, given his own arrogance and parentage, Theron would be an expert on that subject.” Janesa tapped her stylus and a report of the prisoner populated a corner of the window. “Well, look at that. It seems the Imperials kept the old Grand Marshal alive after he got caught. I wonder how he swung that deal.”

Jonas let the dig against his friend drop, wanting to get away from the subject. What was it lately with work colleagues digging into the past in uncomfortable ways? “Could be he’s the Imperial informant that we’re trying to find. It’s hard to imagine that he’d flip at this point in his career, but I don’t know why they wouldn’t have sent him offworld for interrogation otherwise.”

“That could very well be true. Still, these four were the ones that I tabbed while I was waiting for you to finally arrive. Beside our friend Cheketta, these other three seem interesting. All three are registered as living on Balmorra since before the Imperial incursion. The other three were part of resistance movements against the Empire, which caused their incarcerations.” Janesa pulled out the dossiers on each of them. There was little on the three, and the two women seemed remarkably unremarkable. It was just as likely that the Empire picked them up for being aliens as much as for being active resistance cell members.

The man, on the other hand, was Sanju Pyne, and that name struck Jonas as a bit too familiar. Didn’t that dangerous friend of Seraph’s name drop a Sanju a few months back? That couldn’t be a coincidence, even if he had no idea where Seraph had been operating. Of course, that begged the question on whether Sanju here was another Imperial operative, or if he was just some poor soul that Seraph used for her own means.

For a moment, he could almost see her, pressed against this Sanju on the monitor, her mouth on his. Shaking his head, he chased the image away, unsettled by the fact that it came unbidden and fueling a surge of anger in his gut. Anger that Jonas assured himself was solely from the random image striking him; it had nothing to do with the fact that it was Seraph or that she was with someone else. Clearing his throat, he glanced over to Janesa, who was still watching the monitors with her sharp green eyes. “We should probably start with Cheketta and this Sanju character. You can take Sanju.”

“Oh, can I?” Her lips pulled back into a smile as she cut those eyes over to him. “I wasn’t aware that you were lead agent on this, Jonas. How kind of you to take point.”

Jonas grinned at her, resisting the urge to roll his own eyes. Technically, even though there were no official ranks for most of the SIS, he was in charge by experience. While she had been sent to Alderaan - and done well for herself - she stagnated there, working small missions for the nobility there, unlike Jonas who had run and headed up several missions across several planets. “I just figured that if Sanju wouldn’t talk willingly, you’d be able to improvise with some other techniques. I’m pretty sure you know how to turn off the cameras so you can interrogate him more personally.”

Janesa raised an eyebrow, the smile tightening as she regarded him with those green eyes of hers. “And here I thought that was your area of expertise.”

“You know, he’s not my type.” His own grin widened as he got to his feet. It was good to know that he could still get under her skin, even if that wasn’t his intention. “But hey, speaking from personal experience, I remember what you can do with your mouth. Which that’s a compliment, so don’t go thinking it’s not. You almost got me drummed out of SIS training with all your help  _ studying _ .”

“Fine, I’ll handle Sanju.” She rolled the stylus between her fingers again, the smile growing impish on her face. That boded poorly for him, most likely. “And you know, Jonas, maybe later you can remind  _ me _ what you can do with that mouth of yours.”

* * *

 

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: Met an old friend! _

 

_ Sorry, I’ve not been around, but hey, you know how it can be when you’re traveling. _

_ An old friend stopped by, Chek. Not your usual type. Just as grumpy though. _

_ Understandably, he didn’t have much to say, but that’s probably a good thing? _

 

_ Wish you were here. _

 

_ <encrypted data file> _

 

_ Either you’re off the grid, or you’re still mad. _

_ Regardless, try to be careful.  _

 

_ I don’t know if I can still get that time off, but we do need to talk. _

 

* * *

 

Footfalls approached the table he sat at in the Sobrik cantina, and he pressed send on the encrypted email he had been writing without giving it much more of a glance over. Ah well, it wasn’t like Seraph didn’t already consider him a fool for half of the things he wrote her. He glanced up to see Janesa as she helped herself to the seat next to him. She had changed from her clothes from the uniform she wore earlier to something he expected was explicitly for him: a low-cut tight black shirt, a short dark green skirt, and knee high black boots.

With a purr and a smile, she rested her chin in her hand. The green of her eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the cantina. “Tell me, Jonas, was the Marshal everything you hoped him to be?”

“He was just grumpy. As expected.” He hadn’t yet submitted his report for what he learned from Cheketta, for a number of reasons - one of which was why he had been writing that email. “What about your bird, Sanju? Did you make him sing?”

“I did. He sang so sweetly for me too.” Her voice purred still, to the point where he felt she was laying it on a bit thick - even for him. If he didn't know better, he'd figure she was trying to play him. It was a good thing he wasn’t so tempted to think with his cock first anymore. “And just so you know, I didn’t resort to any of the tactics you insinuated I could use. He seemed quite ready to talk without any such prompting.”

Jonas reached for his drink, but Janesa placed her hand over it, dragging it in front of her. He raised an eyebrow slightly before just shrugging. “Did you find out anything useful?”

“A few things. Seems he was part of some resistance cell working for Gray Star.” She raised his glass in a mock toast to him, taking a sip of the contents. As she set the glass back down, she ran her tongue over her lips, watching him intently the entire time. “They were doing what they could to subvert Imperial hold, but something went wrong a few months back. Gray Star seemed to shift his priorities to new targets, of supposed Imperial sympathizers, but something seemed off about the orders. It wasn't long after they started questioning the orders that the Empire found their hideout. Most of the cell was killed, except for Sanju.”

“Isn't that convenient.”

She nodded to him, leaning towards him to let him glance into the cleavage her top revealed, one hand idly tracing along the rim of her stolen drink. Unfortunately for him, he was less interested in the silent advances she was hinting at, as he tried to decipher how Seraph played into this Gray Star business. “Indeed. I'm recommending further questioning. Either someone swayed this Gray Star, or Sanju is being less than honest. He did at least give the coordinates of hideout, not that he figures there is much left. What about Cheketta?”

“He was operating off the books, until some Imperial agent showed up and screwed up his plans…” His voice trailed off as Captain Irlain marched into the cantina. Kriffing, this was not the time to deal with him. Janesa was the last person he needed finding out anything about Seraph. “Excuse me a moment.”

Hopping to his feet with datapad in hand, he moved on an intercept course for the Captain, as the man made eye contact with Jonas. Behind him, he heard the protest of Janesa, as if he was ruining their date, except this was just work as far as he was concerned. He gave a slight shake of his head to Finley as the man opened his mouth to speak and directed him towards a private room, off on the side of the cantina.

The room still had a functioning door, but it was cluttered with wrecked furniture. Apparently, it was the storage room for the collateral damage the cantina suffered from the liberation of the city. It hopefully didn’t have any bugs in it for anyone to listen, not that he had any way to double check at the moment. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

“I’m surprised to see you here. Have you made any progress? On what we talked about?” The evasive choice of words relieved Jonas to hear. Maybe there was a bit of hope for Finley yet.

Jonas shrugged a bit, leaning against a mostly sturdy looking table. It was at least propped up against some kind of debris that was supported by the wall. “Not as much as you’d like. I got pulled for ops here shortly after you left Nar Shaddaa. They’ve been keeping me pretty busy. On account of some Imperial operatives that had been running about here.”

“Really?” Finley raised an eyebrow, his jaw tightening. Whatever was going on in that thick soldier skull of his, he was doing a better job at masking his exact thoughts - beyond pissed off at least.  “Anything I should be aware of?”

Jonas crossed his arms over his chest as he shrugged. It wasn’t like he could tell him that the operative Cheketta told him about sounded like an exact description of the Captain’s sister. “There might be a connection to that lead on Nar Shaddaa we discussed. It’ll be all properly referenced in my debriefing report for former Grand Marshal Cheketta. It could provide interesting insight.”

It would have been much easier to tell Finley that his sister might not be the awful monster that he believed her to be if he could have proven there were no bugs. After all, she brokered a deal with Cheketta to ensure his men were spared. Sure, she finessed a full confession from Cheketta in the process, including an admission of Republic interference, but it should mean something that she chose a path with the least bloodshed in the process.

Finley stood there a moment, his own arms crossed over his chest, letting the silence envelope the room. Finally, he nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“Nothing substantial. We’re kind of busy looking into this resistance cell that was headed up by Gray Star.” Jonas wasn’t sure if that admission would help or damn Seraph in the eyes of her brother, assuming she had a part to play at all in that business. He waited for Finley’s response, but the man just stood there, his eyes - Seraph’s eyes - lost in his own thoughts. Jonas cleared his throat, causing Finley to snap his attention back to Jonas. “Will that be all, Captain?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” Finley seemed lost in his own thoughts already again. Part of Jonas wanted to ask him what was weighing on him, but he remembered the harsh words and threats Finley levied back on Nar Shaddaa. Maybe Finley earned the right to whatever ulcer was brewing in his gut. Shrugging, Jonas walked back out to the main room of the cantina, noticing immediately that Janesa was watching him like a hawk from her vantage point.

Blast, he didn’t want to run interference against her all night. Maybe he should just head back to the quarters that he was provided. Before he could make his way out of the cantina though, a strong hand caught his arm and pulled him back. Surprisingly, it was Finley, who placed a hand on Jonas’ shoulder as he leaned in to speak, his mouth almost brushing Jonas’ ear. It had to look as intimate as it felt, especially considering the daggered stare that he suddenly got from Janesa.

Finley’s voice was low when he spoke, which helped to keep their words hidden over the din of the music. “It doesn’t change much, but she was telling the truth. At least about our parents. I… I thought you should know.”

And just as suddenly, Finley released him and hurried out of the cantina before even Janesa could consider trying to interrupt them. Which was certainly her intention as she sauntered towards Jonas, her hips swaying to the music, a pouting and disappointed look on her face. Yet, it wasn’t her that made his heart pound, as he fought the desire to go charging out after Finley - to demand more of an explanation.

“You didn’t decide to go bat…”

His temper finally snapped, and Jonas took a step to Janesa, keeping his own voice low as he leveled his gaze on her. “Whatever this little game you’re playing, I’m not interested. I’ve not been interested in years, and I’ve got plenty of other things to do than continue it. So find someone else to occupy your night, and stop worrying about who I decide to sleep with - man or woman.”

Her eyes widened a moment, before flashing with her own anger, but she kept her words to herself, her lips pursing. Not that he intended to stay and listen to her even if she didn’t. He needed to hurry this mission on Balmorra along so he could get that intel to prove Finley just how wrong he was about Seraph.


	10. Trust Issues

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: Missing You _

 

_ <encrypted file> _

 

_ Three months.  _

_ I can take the hint. _

 

_ I hope you’re okay at least. _

 

* * *

Seraph was most certainly not okay, but it had precious little to do with the personal drama that Agent Balkar bumbled her into those few months ago. Truthfully, the annoyance she felt that day when she was ambushed by her newly found family had long melted away. The sins of the past that she had no control over where less egregious than what Ardun Kothe had done to her. That codgy diddering Jedi had best be grateful that she chose to let him live.

For the life of her, she did not know what stayed her hand. Ardun’s actions only proved that the Jedi were as untrustworthy as the Sith. Yet still, she let him walk away on Quesh, and now… Now, she didn’t know who to trust.

That sadly included the ragtag crew on her own ship. There would never come a day where she trusted Kaliyo, and Lokin was too close to Imperial Intelligence for her to even consider trusting him these days. Both were useful, but trustworthy? Hardly. And she wasn't quite sure where she would assess Ensign Temple.

The only one that she didn't want to write off completely was Vector, as he had been like a guardian for her of late. Even still, he failed her; she shouldn't hold it against him as Ardun made it impossible for her to advocate for herself, but shouldn't he had noticed her odd behavior? Perhaps he was too distracted by this Daizanna Joiner from this new nest he found.

Scoffing to herself as she made her way through the streets of Nar Shaddaa, she shoved the unpleasant thoughts from her head. This business with Ardun screwed with her enough, and now she needed to resolve something else entirely because of it. Surely, if Ardun was autonomous from the SIS as he claimed, then no one else in the SIS was aware of what he did. But what if…

“Identification, please,” a uniformed guard of the Republic held up a hand as he stopped her at a checkpoint.

Smiling to the man, she transmitted the forgeries that she acquired to get into Republic controlled areas of the Hutt moon. Her voice carried no hint of her Imperial accent when she spoke. “Of course, Officer.”

Despite the anxiousness that crawled through her to get to her destination, she kept her cool as she waited the long tense moments for her identification to clear and the officer to wave her through. She winked at the man before she continued on her way. She spent a great deal of time memorizing her path, not wanting to look out of place in effectively enemy territory. It wasn't like it had been an easy task acquiring the precise details of her destination.

It broke all the unspoken rules between them, but he had been bending them with those incessant messages. Far be it for her to be the only one adhering to any kind of protocol.

Slipping inside a residential building, she made her way to a lift that was unoccupied. As it zipped her to her destination, her stomach fluttered with unexpected nerves. What if he wasn't there? What if he was? What if he wasn't happy to see her, despite all the requests to talk?

Frowning, she tried to shove the doubts and fears from her mind. That was part of the reason she was here, she needed to get out of her own head in an effort to refocus on the more important issues. It served no purpose to worry about what might happen.

The lift stopped on a mid-level floor, only two doors to either side of her. If her informant was correct, the left door was where she was headed. Stopping in front of it, her hand hesitated over the keypad lock, the fluttering sensation in her stomach returning. Should she check to see if anyone was there? Or should she just break in?

Then again, she probably shouldn't start with breaking and entering when she was trying to not be noticed by Republic personnel, so she settled for ringing the bell. Just once, but that should be all that was needed if he were there.

As she waited, her hand went to her hair, ensuring that it was still perfectly in place. She straightened the black jacket she wore, her hands moving to smooth any wrinkles on her pants when she forced herself to stop. Why was she fidgeting so? There was nothing exceptional about tonight than any other…

The door to the apartment slid open, Jonas standing on the other side in only a pair of pants that looked like they had been hastily thrown on and a startled look on his handsome face. Neither spoke as her eyes met his, not that she could find her voice suddenly, her pulse racing as her chest tightened.

He gripped one side of the door, the startled look changing to a guarded expression. His eyes darted from her to the hall and then back to her. “Seraph….”

With a shake of her head, she moved past him into what she presumed was his apartment on Nar Shaddaa. At least that was what the informant she paid had told her it was, and perhaps she could see why he might be guarded about her obtaining that information on her own. Still, she swallowed the knot in her throat, turning to speak to him as she heard the door shut.

“Tell me you didn't know.” The words flew from her mouth before she realized she had said them, that ache in her chest expanding as soon as they did.

Confusion marred his handsome face again, as Jonas half stepped towards her. “Tell you what, Seraph?”

“Tell me…” For a moment, she was afraid - afraid that she'd be unable to finish her thought. That even now, Ardun would rob her of her ability to speak the truth even after she reprogrammed herself. And even more terrified that somehow, Jonas had known. Her hands trembled, only marginally more than her voice. “Tell me that you didn't know what Ardun had planned. What he did.”

“Ardun? Ardun Kothe?” The confusion stayed on Jonas’ face as he closed the rest of the distance to her. She hesitated, taking a step away and placing one of her still trembling hands between them. His hand clasped over hers, stilling it, but he let her have the space between them, concern dancing in his eyes. “What happened? What did…”

With her free hand, she clutched the side of his face as she used her mouth to silence his words. Relief flooded through her as she let herself savor this moment. He didn't know; he wasn't part of Ardun’s conspirators - thank the stars.

This could be her safe haven.

Jonas, though, pulled back before she could deepen the kiss; his brow still furrowed with confusion. His eyes searched hers, his hand still clutching hers between them. “What happened? You can talk to me.”

She could, and she knew that. She also knew that she probably should, but standing here with him now? Telling him of her horrors, letting him know what had been done to her? No, she wasn't sure she could do that yet. She managed only a slight shake of her head, her voice soft and still unsteady to her own ears. “No, not yet, Jonas. I.. I just need…”

You.

The word stuck in her throat, though, her voice cracking. She hadn't known who else to turn to, to trust. And if he could help her, even to forget for a short while… Yes, that was what this was - a useful way to not dwell. Fortunately, he didn't need any more verbal cues from her.

Cupping her face, he traced his thumbs lightly over her cheeks. An intensity she'd never seen before danced in his eyes, piercing straight through her and leaving her feeling naked under his gaze - paralyzed. After what felt like an eternity, he pressed his mouth against hers, tentative and gentle. Her fingers reached up to run down his neck, tracing the muscles of his shoulders as she deepened the kiss.

A nearly painful ache filled her chest as what space between them evaporated. His hand slid under her jacket, fingers fluttering across her skin as his hands roamed under her shirt, caressing her lower back. A sigh escaped past her lips as his hands dipped lower, running over the top of her ass, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

A low growl rolled through him, his exploration of her body ceasing as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He held her tight against him, a hardness pressed into her hip as he maneuvered her to another room. She shed her jacket somewhere along the way, his lips leaving her mouth to trail down the side of her neck. She bit her bottom lip, one hand tangling into his dark hair as she stumbled into the edge of a bed. His hands began working to divest her of her shirt, calloused fingers scratching at her skin, brushing over her nipples, teasing.

Cool air met her skin as her shirt was tossed to the side, yet it did little to soothe the heat rising from her body. He pushed her to sit on the bed, kneeling in front of her.  His hands wandered down her legs, removing her boots with a slow deliberateness before placing his hands on her hips. His mouth found her navel, trailing wet kisses down as he hooked his hands inside her pants and began to slide them down, pulling her to the edge of the bed in the process.

Anticipation tingled in her core as his strong hands rested on her thighs, and she bit down on her lip again to keep from squirming. Her legs spread easily apart for him as his kisses found their way to the wet heat burning between them. His teeth nipped, scratched her swollen clit, but she buried her hands in the sheets of the bed to keep from bucking her hips. It still didn’t stop the moan from cascading out of her as his tongue dashed between her folds - probing, tasting. His tongue teased her opening, circling then delving just inside, as his thumb massaged the throbbing bud.

Gasping and panting, she threw her head back, her hands aching as she kept them buried in the sheets. No matter how far his tongue licked and dived, pleasuring yet tormenting her, she refused to let it push her over the edge. Tiny shocks jolted through her legs as he rolled her clit under his thumb, a wordless whine joining her gasps. A rush of cool air greeted her core as his tongue and hand disappeared, the burning need swelling in her, pulsing.

Jonas returned as swiftly as he left, a hand wrapping around the back of her neck, his mouth covering hers. She tasted herself on his tongue as he poised his own need between her legs, the tip rubbing against her slick entrance. His name was on her lips as he sheathed himself in her with one stroke - a gasp on his. Even with his cock buried in her, the ache in her chest refused to subside; a yearning she'd never known begged for relief within herself.

She dug her fingers into his biceps as he slid his length back and forth within her, his breath hot against her ear as he buried his face in her hair. Already, her vision blurred, her breath hurried, despite the slow, measured strokes of his cock, drawing another tortured wordless whine from her. With a groan of his own, he grabbed her by the hips and rolled them so that she was straddled atop him.

She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to hold back the moan building in her. She rolled her hips in time with his motion, riding his cock, letting it remain plunged deep within. She steadied herself with her hands on his chest, feeling the ragged nature of his breathing under her palms. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her down upon him harder with every passing motion until she couldn't hold back the tide any longer.

Her vision danced with white as a warm, happy sensation flooded through her, tightening around the cock still deep in her. Her moan finally escaped, as he continued to rock her against his hard length. Each stoke set more nerves aflame with a tingling rush flooding through her limbs, until finally he stilled beneath her, groaning as he did.

Better yet, that ache in her chest had finally dissipated, replaced by a warm contentment. The new yearning persisted, but it was a distant thought now as her breathing slowed, her body growing tired. The last thing she remembered were Jonas wrapping his arms around her as she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra thanks to Deathista for her love & support. <3


	11. The Stuff of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter required me to update the tags and warnings for my fic. Take note that implied references to childhood abuse, of the worst sort, are included.

“Keyword: Onomatophobia.” Hunter’s smile twisted, curving, as his image flickered before her. “You're going to do as you are told, puppet.”

Anger rose in her as she wished that Hunter was here with her; she'd love nothing more than to drive her vibroknife into the side of his neck - to end his miserable existence. But instead of deriding the man, of mocking him, she blinked absently. “Of course. What are your instructions?”

“That's a _good girl._ You're going to track down all your contacts, all your crew, and you're going to terminate them.”

No! The scream died in her mind, the same empty and hollow voice speaking. “Command accepted.”

“No mercy. I'll be in touch soon.” The image died, her hands shaking. This couldn't be happening, not again. The serum that Watcher X had helped her with, it was supposed to give her control, remove the programming.

She needed to leave, to find a way to isolate herself. It was the only way to be certain she didn't hurt anyone until she found a way to rid herself of this completely. Why had she trusted Watcher X to be honest with her? To help her get her life back?

“Seraph?” The smooth Republic accent of Jonas Balkar crossed to her ears from another room. Her throat tightened as she tried to tell him to leave, to flee, but instead she pulled the vibroknife from her boot.

Turning towards the archway, her body moved against her will, the blade palmed in her hand. “I'm over here, Balkar.”

Footfalls echoed down the hall, terror gripping her. She did not want this; she had to fight it. Jonas had nothing to do with any of her activities with Intelligence, or the SIS. He needed to go, to leave her, to stay away. She didn't want to do this to him.

“Seraph…” He appeared in the doorway looking as handsome as ever: the hard cut of his jaw, that self-assured smile that lingered in his blue eyes.

Despite the urge to scream, to cry, welling within her, a smile played on her lips. Her body betrayed her as she crossed the short distance to her, her free hand lingering over his chest. “Darling…”

Her other hand whipped around, stabbing the vibroknife into the side of his neck. Surprise filtered into his blue eyes as crimson blood ran down the side of his neck. Yanking the blade out, red splattered across the wall as the light began to seep from his eye. “Ser…”

Tears stung at her eyes as she stumbled backwards, one hand smearing along the blood on the wall. That ache returned to her chest, stealing her breath, as she watched Jonas fall to his knees. The world shook around her as he collapsed in a heap on the floor, red liquid spilling out from the wound on his neck. A sob wracked through her body, her whole body trembling, shaking as her legs gave out from beneath her.

“I'm sorry. So sorry.” The sobs came fast and hard, her body rattling with each one. These monsters, they would pay for what they had done to her, for what they made her do.

Hands grasped her, lifting her up, one hand cupping her face. A sharp voice barked at her. “Seraph…Seraph!”

Her eyes flew open to see Jonas staring at her, fear and concern marring his handsome face. With a trembling hand, she touched his neck, her hand running along where she had stabbed him. Yet nothing was there - no wound, no blood.

He was fine.

She hadn't hurt him.

Relief flooded through her as she found herself still laying in his bed, even as tears streaked down her face. Oh, blast it, why was she crying? It was just a dream; it was ridiculous for it to affect her so - least of all in front of Jonas. The deprogramming worked, and she knew it, experienced it.

Her mind was her own again.

Fingers brushed aside the tears, but she averted her eyes to keep from having to see the concern, the pity. The intent of coming here was to distance herself from that awful affair. Still, the soft touch on her cheek only moved as Jonas trailed his fingers along the edge of her ear. “Hey, it’s alright. Whatever it was, it was just a dream.”

Except the fact that merely days ago, Hunter could have demanded that of her, and she'd have been incapable of refusing meant it was more than just a dream. It was the reality of what her life was, and even if she did rid herself of this programming, how long until the Sith did something else to her? How long before the conflicts of their rival agencies necessitated a change in how they interacted? How long before she did something to get him killed even?

“You know you can talk to me. Off the record. No judgments.” His hand lingered along her ear, tracing the edge of her lobe with a feathery light touch that almost made her forget the horrors of her dream.

“Talking isn’t exactly our strong suit.”

“I rather doubt that's true.” His hand disappears, the bed creaking as he got out of it. Despite the initial wave of disappointment that crested in her gut, she at least got to admire the firm curve of his ass as he pulled his pants back on. He turned back to her, running a hand through his dark hair, a rueful smile on his face. “And I'm not about to complain about a beautiful woman tracking me down to use me for my body. But clearly, something is bothering you. What could it hurt to get it off your mind?”

Seraph sat up in the bed, pulling her knees to her chest as she looked to him. There was truth to what he said, but if she admitted it, how would he look at her then? Would he think she invited it upon herself? “Because, darling, I rather doubt that you'd like what I have to say.”

He raised both eyebrows, emotion flashing through his blue eyes, his jaw tightening. “Maybe you should let me be the judge of that.”

“Fine.” There was no hiding the seething exasperation in her own voice. She didn't like this one bit, but she liked being badgered even less. Getting out of bed herself, she didn't dignify to look at him as she collected her own clothes. “Where would you like me to start? The part where Imperial Intelligence decided to reprogram me more to their liking? Well, I'm sure that's not really much of a surprise, yes? The Empire isn't known for granting much in the way if freedom, why should an operative be much different…”

“Seraph…”

“Oh, darling, do let me finish.” Finding her wayward clothing, she pulled it on without a glance to him, a sick feeling growing in her stomach. Perhaps coming here was a mistake. “I wouldn't want you to think I was withholding anything. After all, I only learned of this new conditioning when the SIS managed to get their hands on the keyword.”

She could only imagine the shock, surprise that crossed his face, as the silence enveloped the room. There was no satisfaction in the words she hurled at him, and she gained nothing to see his reaction. Worse still, she felt no better for even admitting that much to him. It only exposed the wound of what he been taken from her, again. It was something she was certain he had never been forced to experience, nor would she ever want him to.

But how could he ever hope to possibly understand?

“I didn’t... “ Jonas cleared his throat. “I’ve only heard people talking about Koethe and his ops. If… “

“Spare me, Jonas.” Her shoulders drooped as the weight of her admission began to settle on her. “You and I both know that half of the SIS and Republic would have jumped at the chance to do exactly what Ardun did. They’d tell themselves it was for the better good, the righteous cause, and nary a thought to the puppet caught in their strings.”

“Strings put in place by your people.”

Despite the calm, softly spoken words, they stung as he said them. She whirled around to face him, arms crossing over her chest. “Do you think that makes any of this better? Do you have any idea not knowing who to trust? If the Dark Council knew I slipped their shackles, do you think I’d be safe for a moment?”

“Then leave them, Seraph!” Jonas moved over to her, gripping her shoulders. His eyes shone as his voice was thick with emotion. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it. I’m not excusing my people, but you can’t honestly say you don’t want to be free from the bonds of the Sith Empire.”

She jerked herself out of his grip. He had no idea how much that she loathed the masters holding her leash, but that fixed nothing. “And go where, Jonas? Where could I go that wouldn’t require me running for the rest of my life, however short that might be? Never getting a chance to breath, to relax. I’ve seen what they do when they catch traitors; I’ve been ordered to do it myself. I will not spend my life in fear of every corner, or every shadow.”

“So what, you’ll just keep serving, doing their bidding, like a _good_ agent?” Anger colored his voice now, but he kept from shouting. This time though, he kept from reaching out to her, even as he hovered within her personal space.

And he wondered why she was so loathe to discuss these things. She was a fool to believe things could somehow be different, that the line between them wouldn’t ever become an issue. “I’ll do whatever it takes to survive. The same as I always have. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”

“Because you’re better than that, than them.” A sigh escaped him as soon as he said it, raking both hands through his hair. The anger in his voice was already gone, replaced by a relentless exasperation. “Can’t you see that?”

Heat rose to her cheeks as she stared at him, incredulous. This was preposterous, insane really. Whatever… _this_ was between them; it amounted to physical intimacy, sex. He had never seen her operate, nor did they talk work. How could he claim to know the kind of person she was when she stepped out of his sight? “You don’t know that, Jonas. You have no idea what I’m capable of doing, what I’ve done.”

“Oh, I don’t? Maybe it’s because this whole time you’ve been off the grid, I’ve been busting my ass to keep your damned brother from sending your dossier to everyone in the Republic chain of command, including the Supreme Chancellor.” She raised her eyebrows, not terribly surprised that her lunkheaded newly found sibling would be bending over backwards to try and ensure her life was effectively ruined. Not that she wasn’t doing an excellent job of that herself. But that didn’t answer why Jonas was killing himself for her. Whatever image, whatever pedestal he had concocted in that brain of his, he needed to stop it. “I’ve spent more hours combing through enemy action reports. You don’t tend to leave much of a trace, but I’ve talked to people, read reports. An enemy agent matching your description, granting mercy to troops, civilians. It doesn’t exactly sound like you’re inspiring the fear that the Sith tout.”

“Don't confuse lack of evidence as proof of innocence. I’d be a lousy operative if you could find any trace of my more nefarious deeds.” Even if she knew that she tried to minimize collateral damage whenever she could, she could not, would not deny that her hands were clean. Not in the way that he seemed to imply, at least.

He shook his head and stalked out of the bedroom, his barefeet padding silently down the hall. Perhaps now he’d start to see some semblance of reason. Sighing, she scooped up her boots, sitting on the edge of the bed as she began to put them back on. As she pulled on the second, Jonas stalked back in the room, a datapad in hand, tossing it on the bed next to her. “Then explain your kid to me.”

Her body went cold as soon as he said the word. Keeping her voice as even as possible, she gripped the edge of the bed as she stared at him, a desperate part of her praying he hadn’t found what she thought he had. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your child. The one that you made sure got left in Republic space. If you’re such an awful person, why go through that trouble?” He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on the bed beside her. His eyes - they still shone as he spoke to her.

“You must be mistaken, Jonas.”

She tried to advert her eyes, but a hand cupped the side of her face, forcing her to maintain eye contact as the pit in her stomach grew. He had no idea what he had found, truly. “Except you know damned well that I’m not. Those pictures might be fifteen years ago, but it looked a hell of a lot like you. And then you disappeared into the wind just as suddenly. That’s the part I can’t understand. You got your daughter to safety and then you went right back to the Empire.”

“Stop calling her my daughter. I will never lay claim to that child. _Never_ .” She pushed his hand away, rising to her feet and past him in one swift motion. Her hands quivered with the latent rage as she let those words loose, and she whirled back towards him as he got back to his own feet, stunned by her words. Hot tears stung at the corner of her eyes, venom in her voice. “I simply denied _him_ by my actions. I was glad to be rid of her. _Glad_ , I tell you.”

Even now, as she fought the memories trying to flood back to her, terror filled her as her body began to feel the paralysis once more. It wasn’t real, but she remembered it, as did her body. How he’d use that to his advantage until… Tears fell down her cheek, and she angrily brushed them away, as the realization dawned on the man before her, the horror of the truth locked in those blue eyes of his. Fortunately, he kept his distance, as she didn’t know if she could bare the touch of anyone right now.

“What was that other part? How could I go back, Jonas? Because that was my choice.” Pulling up every last ounce of willpower she had left, she forced her hands to steady themselves, made the tears dry up. “I could either go with his Imperial dogs he sent after me, or I could die. And I already told you. I’ll do whatever I must to survive.”

Her name was on his lips as she turned on her heel and left, leaving behind more than just her jacket as she left his apartment.


	12. Reassignments

It had been three days since she walked out his apartment, leaving her jacket and from the feel of things, taking his heart with him. Kriff, how did he let that happen? And how could he just let her walk right out his door, and likely out his life?

Jonas knew he had blindsided with the revelation on what he learned, about her child. If that wasn’t the proof that he couldn’t think straight when it came to her, he didn’t kriffing know. He had been an idiot to not see the truth of that matter, knowing that she spent her childhood under the thumb of a Sith Lord. Seraph had to have been a child herself back then, and what else could that pregnancy have possibly meant? How could he have not put those pieces together?

Of course, now all he could do was beat himself up for the things that he didn’t say, the things he didn’t do.

When she first showed up at his door, the initial shock subsiding, he thought that fate, the Force, something had brought her to him. He had given up hope that he’d see her again before he left Nar Shaddaa, presumably for good, and damn, he got so wrapped up in her that he never even got a chance to tell her...

The door to debriefing room opened, breaking Jonas from his chain of thought. He shifted against his spot on the wall, as Captain Irlain and General Garza joined him in the room, his eyes flicking between the two.

A thin smile briefly appeared on the General’s face as she, and Finley, stood at parade rest across the way, her eyes shining with just a hint of disapproval towards Jonas. Right, he probably should have snapped to attention when she entered, but he wasn’t exactly a soldier. “So good of you to join us Agent Balkar. I hope you won’t miss your post on Nar Shaddaa too much.”

“Change of scenery does us all good, ma’am.” It was the best lie he could think of, as he already dreaded the official line that he knew was coming. SIS Command had already tipped him off on what Garza wanted, as she had to ask permission first prior to putting in the request.

“Glad to hear it, Agent.” Strolling over to him, she removed a datapad that had the official orders on it, holding it out to him.

Taking it from her, he felt a lead stone in his gut, wondering if he could just walk away from it all. He had contacts; he could track Seraph down. Maybe they could make a run for it together. Except, even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t turn his back on the SIS, the Republic. He was a patriot, and the war for the galaxy had just begun. He opened the datapad, his eyes reading over the lines that he already memorized.

_ Agent Reassignment (Indefinite): Agent Jonas Balkar will report to the Commander of Havoc Squad, as their resident SIS specialist. Captain Finley Irlain will be given full autonomy to operate through whatever necessary means, with the full support of SIS Command. _

“Welcome to Havoc Squad, Agent Balkar.” Garza sounded as thrilled as he felt, and she already made her way towards the door. Still, he let a false smile cross his face, meeting the stony gaze of Finley, who didn’t both to crack a smile. “I’ll leave you and the Captain to speak. I’m confident that your previous missions that you worked together on will provide a boon to this new joint venture.”

She strolled out of the room, and all the pretenses of enjoyment left Jonas. He raised an eyebrow at Finley, who just shook his head. “It wasn’t my idea. Believe me.”

“Yeah, sure it wasn’t.” There was no hiding the contempt in Jonas’ voice. Right or not, Jonas felt a surge of anger towards his new supervising officer, and it had everything to do about the Imperial Agent that both men knew.

Finley remained on the other side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, annoyance flickering in his eyes. “Are we going to have a problem, Agent?”

“You tell me, Captain. Are you going to continue your little witch hunt?” Jonas resumed his position against the wall, tucking the datapad under one hand. 

A tight smile appeared on Finley’s face, like he couldn’t believe what Jonas was saying. “It’s not a witch hunt. And, no, until I know what kind of threat she represents, I want you to continue your investigation.”

“How about no?”

“You’re not exactly in a position to say no any longer, Agent.”

“Except I don’t care.” After everything Jonas had learned, things that he’d never even consider telling Finley about, he would not continue. It could ruin him, but that was just a chance that Jonas would take. It wasn’t like Finley wouldn’t risk dragging his own name, his own family through the mud in the process. “You can’t make me, and don’t you think that maybe the reasons you nor I have found anything is because there’s nothing to find.”

“Or she’s good at covering her tracks.”

Kriff, he had enough. It was bad enough arguing with Seraph about how she couldn’t be as bad she wanted him to think she was, but apparently, he was locked in a weird battle with her brother over the exact damned subject. “Look,  _ Captain _ , you don’t have to like her, but I’m not going to help you on this crazy seek and destroy mission you’re hellbent on when it comes to her. You said yourself that she told the truth once to you, about your parents. Kriffing hell, just leave her be.”

“Leave her be?” Finley shook his head, pacing along the other side of the room, his face contorting between fury and confusion“Right, and then what? What if she actively begins to work against us directly? I'm supposed to just leave her be?”

That was a question Jonas couldn’t answer, that no one could answer but Seraph. If the other night was any indication, if she had to choose between them or herself, she’d choose herself and do what she must. He just couldn’t find it in himself to fault her for that. “If it ever comes to that, we can cross that bridge. But until then, you have to let her go.”

“Right, and what about you? Could you cross that bridge?”

“We’ll see if it ever comes to it.” The words sounded as false as they felt as he said them, but that was the best he could do. If he had to, he’d get in touch with an old friend, see if Theron couldn’t help him make a contingency plan.

He just wouldn’t be able to tell his friend why.

 

* * *

 

_ From:  _ [ _ jb@birinc.com _ ](mailto:jb@birinc.com)

_ To: <redacted sender> _

_ Subject: <no subject> _

 

_ I’m sorry. _

_ More than I can say. _

 

_ Please. Just survive. _

 

* * *

 

Her body ached, the adrenaline fading, as Hunter’s body twitched before her. Had they approached her, in another light, in another way, Seraph would have found it easy to have joined them, to aid this Star Cabal of ridding the galaxy of both Sith and Jedi. But after what Hunter had done to her, what the Star Cabal allowed, she’d sooner see them all burn before she’d join their ranks.

They were no better.

If anything, she learned that there were no good options in this galaxy. The stalwart were cowardly, weak, just as corruptible as those they claimed to defy. Why serve any master that would just abuse the people, the common people, beneath their heels? And with the Black Codex within her reach, she could possibly find a way to break free, to serve no one.

“Vector, be a dear and have the others start preparing the ship.” She glanced to the black-eyed man that had traversed most of the galaxy at her side. There were few others she would trust to have her back these days, but the immediate danger had passed.

Vector hesitated as he began to walk away, glancing to the shadows. “Are you certain, Seraph?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Go ahead.” Her companion and would-be protector bowed his head before leaving her sight. She waited a moment until she knew he was gone until she placed her hand on the coveted Black Codex. “I know you’re there, Ardun.”

The aged faced of the Jedi turned SIS agent strolled out of the same shadows Vector had been looking at. Lightsaber and blaster were on his side, but he kept both holstered, a smile on his face. “I didn’t figure I got one past you, Legate.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t expect the help on Corellia was free of charge, despite your claims.” She pulled her hand away from the Black Codex. “Tell me exactly how much did you overhear?”

“Enough.”

Which meant he knew exactly what the Black Codex was, what it could do, and if he was approaching her now… Well, he wanted it for his own means. “Let me hazard a guess. You’d like me to turn the Codex over to you. Out of a sense of obligation after you helped me.”

“Yes, and no.” Ardun stepped in front of her, looking her in the eyes. “After what I did, I expect no sense of obligation from you. It was reprehensible, and I didn’t deserve the mercy you gave me.”

That much they could agree upon. She still had no idea why she hadn’t shot him down that day on Quesh. “But I should still give you the Codex.”

“We could do some good with it. Some real good.”

Always with the presumptions that doing good would somehow sway her. How were his claims any better than Hunter’s, or the delusions of the Sith that they were making the galaxy better by their actions? She didn’t bother to hide the venom in her voice as she stared him down. “What makes you think I care what  _ good _ your Republic claims they would do with it?”

“Because I’ve seen you operate, seen the way you think.” A softness graced his voice, his eyes, as he spoke. “You spared me; you offered to spare Hunter. You’re not the remorseless machine the Empire wants you to be.”

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. She had heard all of this before, from much more intimate sources. The sheer audacity of everyone trying to convince her of something they couldn’t begin to know was nothing short of astounding. “You’ve seen what I’ve let you see.”

“And what about Jonas Balkar?”

There was no hiding the shock that crossed her face as he spoke that name, nor the ache in her chest. Whatever tentative truce was between her and Ardun at the moment, he was dangerously close to breaking it as far as she was concerned. “You leave him out of this.”

“Don’t worry. It was just an observation.” He held up his hands in a sign of peace, offering her a soft smile. “I merely found it curious that of all the people in the galaxy, you sought him out after we departed on Quesh.”

No amount of niceties, of kind smiles, would help him right now. Her body was cold, still, and she was gauging how quickly she could draw her vibroknife before Ardun reacted. “As I said… Leave him out of this.”

“Fair enough. But tell me, if you knew that the Codex was feeding information into his hands, would you entrust it to me then?”

She broke eye contact with Ardun, heat flooding her cheeks. That was entirely unfair of a question to ask of her; everything about Jonas Balkar was complicated when it came to whatever they had. She hated that he managed to discover anything about Jonas though; she had been careful when she sought him out, hadn’t she?

Kriff, Ardun was right though. If there was one person she could thought she could trust, even after everything he knew, it was Jonas. She almost didn’t recognize her voice as she spat the words out. “Take the blasted thing.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Legate.” She heard the hiss of the machine as it released the Black Codex behind her back. If Keeper ever learned what she did just now, there would be no avoiding her forced retirement. Assuming of course, the Sith Lords didn’t decide to eradicate the remaining vestiges of Intelligence once she returned to Dromund Kaas.

Ardun placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft. “You know, I could still use an agent like you. The Codex doesn’t have to be the extent of our arrangement.”

He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t have to. It was an offer to defect once more, to work the system. She would be no good to the Republic as a SIS agent alone, but if she managed to keep herself in the good graces of the Empire… Her worth was immeasurable, but it was gamble. “You and I both know that if I say yes, it’s a death sentence.”

“Yes.”

Closing her eyes, she remembered her darling Jonas, her heart already aching more. She expected Imperial Intelligence to be the death of her, one way or another. She could handle that knowledge, but would he be able to? Could he understand that there was no way out for her if she started down that path? “If I did this, he cannot find out.”

Not yet.

“That’s your call, but…”

Tears stung at the corner of her eyes, but she brushed them away with an angry determination. She wasn’t sure entirely that she could trust Ardun, but perhaps, this was a way for him to redeem himself. Perhaps it could be a way for her to redeem herself. It would at least be her choice, this time.

“I’ll make sure he finds out. In my own way.”

Opening her eyes once more, she found Ardun standing in front of her, waiting., one hand outstretched to her. “Does that mean you accept?”

“You have a deal, Ardun.” She clasped her hand to his. “I expect a better code name this time around.”

 

* * *

 

_ From: <redacted sender> _

_ To: jb@birinc.com _

_ Subject: Re:<no subject> _

 

_ No apologies, darling. You deserve better. _

 

_ Farewell. _

 

_ ~S _


End file.
